


Worthlessness at the Heart of the Matter

by Rmar17



Series: Growing Up and Growing Together [1]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Morty Smith, Child Neglect, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kinda, My First Fanfic, Pre-Slash, Rick Being an Asshole, Running Away, Sad Morty Smith, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-09-01 16:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16769005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rmar17/pseuds/Rmar17
Summary: All the signs in the universe pointed to the fact that Morty Smith was completely and totally worthless. He couldn't quite bring himself to argue otherwise, but, well, if he was worthless to everyone in the universe, then they'd be worthless to him right back.When Morty feels like he doesn't matter to anyone in his life, he decides to run away from home, stealing Rick's ship and escaping into the far reaches of the galaxy, determined to forget about the people who were supposed to love him, yet didn't. Unbeknownst to him, Rick and the Smiths are desperately searching for their lost family member, willing to do anything to get him back home where he belongs.





	1. Abandoned

Morty knew his life held little meaning in the vast universe; nothing he did would matter in the end. He was nothing more than an insignificant blip in the endless expanse of space and time. He knew that, yet it still hurt to realize his life barely held any meaning to the people around him either, the people with whom he interacted and coexisted every day. He knew he wasn't worth the air he breathed. He knew by the way his mother easily chose his sister over him, easily would've allowed Morty to die as long as his sister was safe. He knew by the way his sister would barely talk to him, only giving pitying stares when he was deemed a worthy enough reason for her to look up from her phone. He knew by the way his dad never noticed his bruises and haunted looks after a particularly brutal adventure. He knew by the way he had no friends, even though he'd been in class with the same two hundred kids for his entire life.

He knew by the way Rick looked at him with little more than carefully reigned in disgust, his eyes mocking and lips twisted in a sneer as he brought his flask to his lip as if the alcohol would drown out the annoyance associated with the boy's presence. By the way Rick let him get hurt again and again for his own sick pleasure, not caring how each injury whittled away at Morty's already broken spirit. By the way Rick jeered and laughed at him no matter what the boy said or did, never letting him gain a single drop of confidence in himself. By the way Rick kept a carefully-hidden coupon for a replacement Morty.

He knew these things with every fiber of his being, had known them for a long time now. Yet it still hurt when his mom asked about Rick's well-being after a brutal adventure before she asked about Morty's, when his sister didn't acknowledge his presence, when his father couldn't be bothered to ask him why he came home from school with a black eye. But what hurt most, more than anything else his mother, father, or sister ever did, was when Rick brushed him off, cold glares and even colder words spewing out of his mouth like poison. Even though Morty knew he was little more than a human cloaking device to his grandfather-one that sometimes wasn't worth the trouble it brought to the elderly man-Morty had come to rely on his grandfather as the only one who would give him the attention he so desperately needed. 

Rick was the only one who gave him the time of day, even if it was only to belch insults at the boy and demand some tool or another while working in the garage or to drag Morty on a life-threatening adventure so the elderly man would have the drugs and alcohol he needed so desperately to keep from offing himself. Often the attention Rick gave Morty was more harmful to the boy than comforting or nurturing, but Morty would take what he could get. 

Usually, Rick didn't care one way or another if Morty decided to hang around in the garage while the old man worked, in fact Morty kind of thought Rick enjoyed the attention Morty gave him when he asked questions and bustled around the garage trying to be helpful. Morty tried his best to understand the words Rick said to him when he explained an invention, but the terms and concepts just couldn't quite stick in his head, making for a jumble of random, inexplicable nothings in his mind instead of understanding. Rick called him stupid, but Morty secretly thought his grandpa was just bad at explaining things.

But if nothing else, Rick thrived when given attention, whether that be from a beautiful woman, an intergalactic totalitarian government, or his awkward teenage grandson. Morty could usually use that to his advantage, slowly coercing the man to talk with him, to give him the time of day, by acting awed by whatever Rick was working on at the time. But the weeks before Morty's 18th birthday were different. Rick kept giving Morty the cold shoulder, brushing the almost-adult off anytime Morty even attempted to start a conversation. It hurt more than Morty wanted to admit.

"R-Rick," Morty said one day, twisting his thin hands anxiously in his yellow shirt, a few shades darker than the stand-offish sunshine color he favored a few years ago. "It's-uh, I mean, it's been awhile since-it's been almost two weeks since we went on a c-classic Rick and Morty adventure, you know?" Cursing internally at his stutter that, while slightly improved since he'd first met Rick, was still prominent in his speech. Glancing down slightly to avoid Ricks gaze, Morty steeled himself to finish the short speech he'd prepared for this moment. 

"Maybe-we could maybe go somewhere fun-a uh, to a fun place for my birthday?" A few moments of silence made Morty raise his eyes to look at the man in front of him. Rick's eyes were rolled towards the ceiling, one hand massaging the crease on his forehead formed by his scrunched brow, a look of complete exasperation on his old, ashen face. Grimacing at Rick's obvious discontent, Morty quietly mumbled, "Or, uh-or maybe not. It's fine, I was kind of hoping to-I wanted to stay in and uh, watch tv or some-something anyway."

"Morty," Rick drawled, a slight slur in his gravely voice, as he'd already started drinking for the day. "I-urrrp, I told you already t-that adventures are cancelled-they're postponed for a-awhile. I've got some pressing-some important stuff to work on a-alone, Morty."

Nodding minutely, not bothering to argue with Rick (he'd already tried to convince the man not to postpone adventures several times), Morty turned on his heel and trudged up to his room. Rick watched in silence for a moment, before he, too turned and headed out of the kitchen. He did have more pressing things to work on.

Up in his room, Morty threw himself onto his bed, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he stared dully at the ceiling. Looking around his room, Morty took in the slight changes he'd made since he'd started to grow up. The picture of a big busted, bathing suit-clad woman that was hanging on his wall had been replaced by a large poster of the periodic table almost two years ago. His closet, which before held only several versions of his yellow tshirt and jeans, now held a bit more variety of color and style, although he still tended to gravitate towards simple colors or patterns. His desk was a clutter of books and worksheets, a result of his poor attempts to figure out his homework last night. 

All-in-all, while a few things had changed a bit, Morty was disgusted to realize that he was still the same dumb as rocks, lame kid he'd been his entire life, and somehow that revelation hit him harder than anything had in a long time. It didn't matter how much his outlook on life (and the meaningless of it all) had changed in a few years, or the horrors he'd seen and committed. It didn't matter how much time he spent gravitating towards Rick like a flower to sun, Morty was still the same kid he'd been before his crazy, fucked up grandpa had crashed into his normal, mundane life. Rick was supposed to be the one that never brushed him off, forgot about him, or ignored his existence. That was the one constant that had kept the kid sane and going on for the last four years, but somehow, that had all changed in a few weeks at the drop of a hat. Burying his face in his hands, Morty tried as hard as he could not to spiral into a panic attack, his breathing already quickening, hitching at uneven intervals.

Had Rick finally decided that the Morty of dimension C-137 wasn't worth anything to him anymore? That he was more trouble than help at this point? Maybe now, Rick would finally use that free replacement Morty coupon he'd kept hidden for years. _Even Rick doesn't want me anymore._

That thought was the one to finally push Morty over the edge. Abruptly standing up, his limbs shaking slightly with ill-contained rage and despair, Morty paced restlessly around his small, painfully meaningless room. _Why should I have to stay here and be ignored by my family; neglected and taken advantage of?_ Morty wondered wildly, his thoughts swirling a mile a minute in his head. _Mom, Dad, and Summer don't care about me, and now Rick has finally realized that they're right to ignore my existence. What's left for me here?_

Slowing to a stop in the middle of his room, body aching with the weight of a painful, yet meaningless life, Morty stared hard at the only picture he had in his room-the picture of his entire family while on vacation in the dimension where hamsters lived in human butts. Limbs feeling strangely weightless, as if being moved by a will not his own, Morty watched in a detached sort of interest as his hand reached out and gently pushed the picture off his nightstand. He felt nothing as it shattered onto the floor, face down to obscure the smiling faces of his family who never really felt like a family anyway.

He was done with them. He had to go.


	2. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty leaves to start a new life on his own.

Morty wasn't a particularly clever kid, he knew, which meant he was going to have to go about this very carefully so he didn't get caught before he even got anywhere. And he was determined to get somewhere, though it didn't particularly matter where. Preferably somewhere in the farthest reaches of the galaxy where there was no chance for him to stumble upon his family and preferably tonight. He had to go somewhere even Rick wouldn't think to look, assuming the man would even bother to search for Morty once he realized the boy was gone.

Which he wouldn't, Morty was certain. Unless it was to hunt down the boy just to berate him for daring to leave Rick without a cloaking device for his brain waves. Even then, Morty assumed that was more work than Rick would be willing to put into a useless Morty. It would definitely be easier for the elderly man to go pick up a new Morty from the citadel than to hunt down Morty of C-137. 

So really, all Morty had to worry about was getting off planet, and then he would be home free. Able to go out and...do something that didn't involve his grandpa or his family. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet, but Morty figured it he would worry about it later, after he'd pulled off the harder part of his plan. Which was actually getting off planet.

The only ways Morty knew to get off Earth were Rick's portal gun or his ship, and Morty was fairly certain he would never in a million years be able to get the portal gun off Rick, who kept the thing with him no matter where he went. So, spaceship it was. Still a difficult task, but nowhere near as hard as stealing the portal gun from his grandpa. Morty was pretty sure Rick had back up plans in place for he ever lost sight of it, most including a painful death via a self-destructing portal gun to whatever poor bastard had the misfortune of stealing it. 

Morty knew Rick left the keys to the spaceship on his worktable in the garage in plain sight, not really worried about anyone stealing the hunk of junk, so it wouldn't be too hard to sneak in after Rick went to bed and nab the keys. The hard part would be making sure Rick couldn't track him, not that Morty thought he'd bother to try. Well, maybe he'd follow his grandson so he could take his ship back, but Morty would try to make it as difficult as possible.

First thing was first, Morty had to figure out how to get rid of the tracking device Rick had 'secretly' put into his arm. The boy knew Rick thought Morty was still unaware of the tiny device implanted in his bicep while he was asleep a few years ago, but Morty had known the minute he woke up that something was different. His arm was sore and tender to the touch, and when he brought it up to Rick, the older man had only made fun of Morty saying he'd gotten muscle ache from jerking off too much. Morty had blushed furiously at the time, stuttering out a denial as he fled the garage, but later that night, he'd gently felt around the tender skin and was finally able to feel a small hard lump under the skin that hadn't been there before. Morty hadn't known what it was, other than some dumb machine made by Rick, and he'd depressingly accepted the fact that he was secretly being experimented on again, anxiously waiting for it to turn his arm purple or to hatch into tiny alien slugs that would produce hallucinogentic slime or something. 

However, even several weeks later, none of those things had happened. Morty had honestly almost forgotten about it, that is until one adventure gone terribly, yet not uncommonly, wrong. Morty had lost Rick in a crowd of rioting aliens as they had been running from the police with bags full of rocks that apparently had some unique properties that Rick had wanted. Panicking, Morty had run into a back alley to get out of the crowd and gather his bearings. Too bad for him, the alien police had been hot on his trail and easily followed the boy into the dead end passageway, guns drawn and shouting in a language Morty couldn't understand. 

Just as Morty was about to be shot, Rick had portaled in, pulling out his own gun and killing all the aliens just in time. 

"H-how did you find me?" Morty had immediately accused, thinking back to an adventure not too long ago where he'd lost Rick and been stranded on the foreign planet alone for almost a week before his grandpa had found him, stumbling around back alleyways almost starved to death and with a few new wounds Morty wouldn't talk about.

"I-uuRRPpp-I'm a genious, M-Morty," Rick had laughed, a narcissistic drawl to his words. "I-there's nothing I can't f-fucking do."

Morty had let the matter drop, but his mind had been whirling the rest of the night. Had Rick been able to find him the last time he got lost, yet just didn't bother? But then it hit him. The new device in Morty's arm, it must've been some sort of tracking device, or there's no way Rick would've been able to find him so quickly.

The boy had been rather flattered at the time, proud that Rick cared about him enough to want to know where he was at all times, but now Morty just felt a twinge of disgust. It wasn't care or worry that had made Rick secretly inject a tracking device into his grandson, it was just his obsessive need for control. And Morty had let him have the satisfaction, even _relished_ in the feeling of letting Rick control his every move. Thinking about it now, Morty couldn't help the revulsion he felt towards himself for letting Rick walk all over him like that. The boy's thin fingers unconsciously carved thin little scratches into his bare arms as his stomach roiled with nausea.

Shaking his head to clear the self-disgust, Morty stiffly forced his body towards his closet to pull out a small duffel bag, a rough plan forming in his head on how to get rid of the tracking device. Not really paying much attention, the boy pulled some clothes off hangers to stuff in the bag, making sure he had at least one item for all weather conditions. Standing again, he paced slowly around his room, looking around to see if there was anything he wanted to take with him, since he didn't plan on ever coming back to this house again.

With a sick feeling of melancholy, Morty realized that there was absolutely nothing in his room that he wanted to take with him. No pictures, knicknacks, or important objects stuck out in his room that he wouldn't be able to live without. Nothing at all of importance, just like him. Somehow, the fact that when he left, his room would be as impersonal and cold as a guest room left Morty feeling even more bleak that before. Obviously, he'd made even less of an impact in this world than he thought, and that was saying something considering he knew he hadn't made any sort of impact at all. 

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Morty slowly backed out of his room, giving it one last cursory glance before quietly closing the door and tiptoeing into the dark hallway. It was well passed midnight on a weekday by now, and Morty sincerely hoped that that meant his fam-the _other people_ in the house would be asleep. As quiet as he could, Morty glided through the long hallway and made his way down the stairs and into the living room, his eyes taking in the walls of the place he'd called home for almost eighteen years. 

As he stepped quietly into the living room, Morty stumbled to a stop as he stared at the passed out face of his grandpa, his lanky body hanging ungracefully half-off the couch and drool dripping out of his open mouth, onto a couch cushion. In the flickering light of the tv, Morty couldn't help but think that Rick just looked... _old._ Until now, the man had always seemed larger than life, an immovable presence and an unstoppable force, someone that would forever be _more_ than the rest of the universe. Now though, Rick looked exactly what he was: just a man. Sure he was smarter and more experienced that most everyone in existence, but he was still just a man. One with a drinking problem and a death wish, one who was so far from perfect that it hurt.

Realizing that, Morty let out a soul-deep sigh of weariness, feeling so much older than his seventeen years. Staring at his once beloved grandpa for one last moment, Morty turned gently on his heel, heading through the kitchen and out into the garage, locking the door behind him. Obviously something as simple as a lock wouldn't do much to keep Rick out, but the simple action of turning the mechanism calmed Morty somewhat, making him feel just a bit safer.

Staring apprehensively at the hunk of metal that had taken him on so many adventures, Morty let his body move unconsciously to open up the door and throw his duffel bag in the passenger seat. It's not like anyone else would be sitting in it. With his stuff safely packed away, Morty turned to take in the rest of the garage, bits and pieces of unfinished inventions making a feeling of nostalgia crawl its way up Morty's throat and clog his airway slightly. 

Quietly clearing his throat, Morty shuffled around in the garage, opening cabinets and shuffling papers around for anything that might be useful. After about five minutes of scavenging, Morty had come up with two alien guns, a sac of flurbos, a few random blueprints that he might be able to sell later on for more money, and universal translator. Also grabbing a basic toolkit and first aid kit, Morty threw all those things into the backseat of the ship, glancing around one last time to make sure there wasn't anything he was missing. Once he was gone, he wouldn't just be able to stop by later to grab something he'd forgotten. 

Satisfied that he'd gotten everything he needed, Morty moved to the next step of his plan: disengaging the tracking device in the ship. Morty had watched Rick doing repairs on the machine enough times to know what it was and where to find it. How to disengage the tracker was a mystery, but Morty figured that if nothing else, he could just smash whatever it was that transmitted the location to Rick. There was really no other option, seeing as Rick would easily be able to find him if he could track the ship Morty was using.

Popping open the hood of the ship, Morty gently reached around until he found what he was looking for. Pulling out a small silver box full of wires and blinking red lights, Morty was about to yank the entire thing out of the ship when he suddenly heard a mechanical sort of whirring and clicking. Nervously glancing up, Morty deflated slightly as he stared into the barrel of a gun that had popped out of the ship.

"Threat detected," came the mechanical, yet feminine voice of the ship. "Analyzing threat."

A wide beam of light scanned Morty's body as he stood rigidly, his hands still wrapped tightly around the transmitter in his thin hands. A small needle popped out of the ship, jabbing Morty in the side of the neck as it harshly drew blood from the boy, then disappeared back into the hull. A whirring sound filled the garage, followed by a few positive sounding beeps.

"Morty Smith of dimension C-137 detected. Override kill order, weapons deactivated."

Morty blew out a relieved breath as the guns retracted back into the ship, grateful that Rick had gotten around to giving Morty partial control of the ship after the last incident. Morty had been repairing a small broken part of the ship while Rick was holding off the aliens on their tail, when suddenly the ship had taken out a gun and shot Morty in the leg. It would've shot him between the eyes too if Rick hadn't stepped in and overrode the kill order.

Shaking himself out of the memory, a phantom ache settling into his leg where he'd been shot that time, Morty quickly yanked the transmitter out of the ship and tossed it onto Rick's work table. Hopping into the driver's seat, Morty adjusted the seat slightly and checked one last time before taking a deep breath and mentally preparing himself for the last step. His own tracker.

The boy was pretty certain that Rick would be alerted as soon as his tracker went offline, so Morty had to be ready to book it out of there once he'd gotten it out. Starting the ship, he winced slightly at the loud coughing noise it let out as the engine sputtered to life. Pulling out a small razor blade he'd kept in his room next to his bed for the last couple years, Morty held his breath and, without giving himself time to think about it, sank the blade into his upper arm, just above the device. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Morty dragged the blade deeply through his arm, tossing it aside once he'd made a big enough cut. Gagging slightly, Morty harshly dug his fingers into the split flesh of his arm, wiggling them around until he felt the slick piece of foreign metal.

 _This is hardly the worst pain you've ever felt, don't pass out now_ , he silently chanted to himself as he pulled it out and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his foot and sweeping the pieces onto the cold garage floor, his blood staining the cement red. Slamming the door to the ship shut, Morty quickly shot out of the garage as he heard the garage door handle being jiggled, his eyes filling with tears he couldn't stop, his heart filling with an emotion he couldn't name.

As he watched his house get smaller and smaller, then the Earth get smaller and smaller, Morty was finally able to put a name to how he was feeling.

Completely and wonderfully free.

~~~~

A harsh beeping startled Rick out of his drunken slumber, his body jerkily falling off the couch as he rolled to avoid an imagined threat. Peeling his sleep-crusted eyes open, a hard pounding filling his head while cotton filled his mouth, Rick achingly sat up, his old bones creaking with every move. He was too old for this shit.

Roughly yanking up the sleeve of his lab coat and shirt, Rick blearily checked to see which of his various watches was going off, not particularly worried about any of the potential meanings behind the sound. His nonchalance immediately dissipated when he saw which watch was going off. _Morty._

All feelings of hungover fatigue immediately disappeared as Rick shot up and ran to Morty's room, unceremoniously shoving the door open and stumbling to the bed. 

"M-M-Morty, b-buddy?" the old man stuttered worriedly as he yanked the blanket off the bed, his heart sinking as he stared at the empty space where his grandson should've been. Stumbling back from the bed, Rick swiftly turned and darted out of the room, his lanky legs stretching as far as they could as he practically flew back down the hall and to the garage. Grabbing the doorknob and yanking it as hard as he could, Rick was surprised to feel the resistance of a locked door. He was even more surprised to hear the telltale rumble of the engine of his ship taking off. 

Frantically searching his pockets for the portal gun, with shaking arms, Rick shot a portal into the kitchen wall and hopped through, arriving into an empty garage just in time to watch his ship disappear out of the Earth's atmosphere.

"That l-little fucker," Rick mumbled darkly, trying to suppress his worry and fear with anger at the boy for taking his ship. Turning towards his desk, intending to pull up the tracking device for the ship, Rick stumbled to a stop as he saw the ship's transmitter laying uselessly on his desk, frayed wires shooting off little sparks. Groaning, his head falling into his hands, Rick sank to the floor in a depressive heap of aching limbs. Glancing up, Rick noticed for the first time the small pool of blood on the garage floor. Bits of machinery were scattered into the rouge puddle, and angry, worried tears pricked behind Ricks eyes as he stared at the stain. 

Pulling out his flask, Rick took a long, long swig, letting his head fall back to crack harshly on the wall behind him, his eyes staring unseeingly at the night sky. 

_My Morty, where did you go?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, chapter two! Now that the stage has been set, I have some exciting things planned for Morty to move along his character development, so I hope everyone stays with me to see where it goes! Thanks again for reading, and kudos and comments are always appreciated! P.S. I promise next chapter will have more dialogue.


	3. Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty tries to figure out what the hell he should do next. Rick and the Smiths worry and argue.

"Hey- uh, ship?" Morty called hesitantly, his body reclined in the driver seat as the ship sat motionlessly in the void, arms pillowed under his head as he stared out into the vast expanse of space around him. "What do you think we should do next?"

A quiet mechanical whirring sounded around him as the ship processed his words, before a feminine voice filled the small space of the ship.

"No answer can be calculated. I cannot make suggestions, only follow orders."

"Ha," Morty laughed mirthlessly, his eyes falling shut as a little grin twisted his lips. "D-don't I get that. I was-uh, same here, until today. Today I-I'm becoming a new pers-a new man today."

Sitting up, Morty stared at the empty void around him, wondering just what the hell he thought he was doing. He couldn't possibly survive on his own in space. He could barely survive in space with Rick, the smartest man in the universe. That being said, Rick _was_ usually the reason they were always in life threatening situations in the first place, so maybe Morty would be fine on his own as long as he didn't start any trouble. 

"Hey, ship?" Morty called again as he adjusted his seat a little and placed a firm hand on the wheel. A soft beep signified that the machine was listening. "We-we're gonna defy everyone's expec-expectations, okay? W-we don't need anyone-no one is gonna give us orders anymore."

"I must be given orders to function," came the mechanical reply, causing Morty to snort a little bit.

"Yeah, I-I thought so, too."

Putting the ship into drive, Morty shot off in a random direction, humming slightly as he hurtled through space at break-neck speeds.

"Ship, what's-uh what planet is closest to us right now?"

Turning on the radio quietly, Morty waited patiently as the ship processed his words, a little smile tilting his lips up as he thought about all the things he could do now that he wasn't stuck being the verbal punching bag for his family. 

"The closest inhabitable planet is Terra Nimbus 9, with a calculated two hours and thirty four minutes until arrival at current speeds," came the eventual reply.

"P-perfect," Morty murmured, his eyes fixed straight ahead on the future as he shot in the direction of his first ever solo adventure. The first of many hopefully.

~~~~~~

Rick was slightly ashamed to realize he'd fallen back into a drunken sleep after he'd watched Morty leave. He had planned on getting up immediately to build something to find the little shit, but he couldn't seem to make his limbs move the way he wanted them to. The only thing he could do was take pull after pull of his flask, ending up more trashed than he'd been the night before. But could anyone blame him? _Morty had left him_. Just up and ran away.

Morty was supposed to be the only one that would never leave, yet now he was gone? Just like that, he took all Rick's motivation with him.

A knock on the garage door was what woke Rick the next morning. The handle jiggled slightly, but once the person on the other side realized it was locked, louder and more persistent knocking filled the garage and pounded around painfully in Rick's head.

"Grandpa Rick? Are you in there?" Summer's annoyed voice called into the room. 

Groaning slightly, the old man stumbled awkwardly to his feet and shuffled to the door. Untwisting the lock, he didn't have to wait long before Summer swung the door open and faced him, her hands propped on her hips and a scowl on her face.

"Come on grandpa Rick, cough up Morty. You know mom said that if he missed a day of school this week then you would have to postpone adventures for even longer. Both of you are already miserable enough with the current ban, don't make it any worse by trying to sneak him out on adventures in the middle of the night."

"He's gone," Rick murmured, feeling stone-cold sober for the first time in awhile and hating it. Rummaging around in his lab coat pockets, Rick cursed quietly as he pulled out an empty flask. Tossing it unceremoniously to the ground, he shuffled towards the mini fridge in his lab and yanked the door open. "Fuck!" he couldn't help but growl as he saw that he'd cleaned that out yesterday too, slamming the door shut with unnecessary force.

Summer stood frozen in the doorway, he eyes wide and scared looking, an emotion that hadn't been on her face in a long time. After everything she'd been through, it was hard to scare her these days. Losing her little brother? That was one of the few things that could scare her.

"What-what do you mean he's gone? Is he... is he dead?" she practically whispered, her body thumping against the door frame for support.

"N-not yet, _Summer_ ," Rick said with a sneer, practically spitting her name as a curse and spinning around to glare at the young adult in his garage. "But I'm sure he w-won't last long out there."

"Rick, what the _fuck_ are you talking about?" Summer growled, her hackles rising at Rick's aggression. "Where the hell is my brother?"

"D-didn't you hear me, Summer? He's fuck-he's fucking gone!"

A crash behind the younger girl startled both people in the garage into spinning around, their eyes locked on Beth's pale face in the doorway behind them. Broken glass littered the floor around her feet from the wine glass she'd dropped, but no one moved to pick it up.

"Dad..." Beth whispered brokenly, her hand covering her mouth slightly, a scared look in her eyes. "What do you mean Morty's gone?"

Losing the burning rage as quickly as he'd gained it, Rick let out a tired sigh, rubbing harshly at his eyes with the heels of his palms and causing stars to spark up under his eyelids. 

"Beth, s-sweetie," the old man started placatingly, only to be interrupted by his daughter.

"No dad, just tell me where Morty is."

"I don't know," he finally replied bluntly, his shoulders slumping as he felt all his many, many years weigh on him. "He took my ship and left. I don't know where and I don't know why."

"Can't you just find him with that tracker you put in him a couple years ago?" Summer demanded, he eyes burning with barely restrained fury.

"O-oh yeah," Rick sneered back at her, his own rage bubbling up to the surface in response to her's. "You-you're soooo smart! Why-why didn't I-uuuRRPPpp- why didn't I think of that? _How_ in the _world_ could I have for-forgotten about the tracker that I-that I _specifically_ put in him for shit like this?" Slamming his hand on the desk, he grinned manically as Summer and Beth both jumped slightly at the noise. "Oh wait, I-I did think of that, be-because I'm not an _idiot, Summer_."

Growling low in his throat, Rick pointed at the dried red stain in the middle of the garage, a burning feeling taking over his body slightly as he finished harshly, "Too bad the little shit-too bad that fucker cut it out of his own arm." 

Reaching for his flask, Rick was again reminded that it was empty. Throwing his hands into the air, the elderly man couldn't help the almost shouted, "Where the _fuck_ is a-all the alcohol in this house?"

"D-Dad?" Beth's whisper cut through Rick's angry haze. "Is that-is that Morty's blood?"

"What?" came the confused reply. Rick had _literally_ just said that it was. He knew Beth was in shock, hell so was he, but that usually didn't make her stupid. "Yeah, Beth, I just-I just said that idiot cut out h-his tracking device."

"So you're saying my baby is out in space, alone and wounded? And you can't find him?"

 _It wouldn't be the first time_ , Rick wanted to shoot back, but held his tongue. Somehow, he didn't think that information would help the current situation. "L-look, sweetie," Rick sighed, running his old, gnarled hand through his electric locks. "D-don't worry about it. The kid knows how to handle himself on his-can handle himself alone for awhile. I'll figure out w-where he is in no time so we can-so we can bring him back and give him a good whooping for-for running away from home."

"But he's _hurt_ , dad!" Beth cried, her voice wavering slightly as she stared at the pool of blood. 

Sighing again, Rick struggled to hold his tongue, wanting to tell her that her son would hardly be phased by such a small amount of blood. That he'd been through things that would drive any strong-willed person over the edge into insanity. That he'd survived everything this shitty universe had thrown at him and bounced back stronger, smarter, and slightly more broken each time. But he couldn't tell Beth that, couldn't brag about how he'd trained the young boy to be able to survive almost anything. If Beth knew the things they'd seen and done, there's no way in hell the woman would let Rick anywhere near her son again. And he couldn't let that happen; he needed Morty, more than he'd ever let the boy realize. 

"B-Beth, take a deep breath, you-you're going to work yourself into a panic-a panic attack."

"How can I take a deep breath when you've let my son fly off to god knows where in your spaceship to do god knows what?" the woman demanded, anger finally setting in. "How could you let this happen?"

Anger burned in Rick at the accusing words. There's nothing in this world that could keep him away from his Morty and he was outraged by the assumption that he in any way at all let Morty out of his sight to go get into dangerous alien situations without Rick there to save him. Maybe he didn't always protect the boy, because sometimes Rick just had to sacrifice Morty's well-being to get them out of dangerous situations, so no Rick didn't always protect Morty, but he would _always_ save him. He planned to do that, still. 

But first, he had to tell off his little shit of a daughter who thought she could accuse Rick of being the cause of Morty's disappearance.

"D-Don't you dare pin this on me, Beth," Rick growled, not caring about the way Beth cowered slightly at his reprimanding tone. "If anyone in this family is to blame, it-it's you guys. I'm the-uuRRRrpp-I'm the only one who g-gives the little shit the time of day. The-the rest of you basically ignore his e-existence!"

"How could you say that, Rick?" Summer growled, pointing an accusing finger at the elderly man. "You're probably the reason he left! He probably couldn't stand to go through all the terrible things you put him through anymore. The death, pain, and terror was too much for him to bare, you drove him away!"

"You-you have no idea what you're talking about, Summer, so shut the fuck-shut the hell up," Rick seethed, trying really hard not to draw his gun and shoot the girl between the eyes for her words. "I'm the-only the adventures were keeping M-Morty grounded, and you guys t-took them away from him. Don't you see, that kid has-has more self-worth issues than anyone I've ever met. The-the adventures were the only t-thing keeping him feeling like he was-like he was important. And you took them away, Beth."

"I-" the woman started, but quickly cut herself off, a pained look on her face. "Morty is almost an adult. He couldn't just keep going on adventures with you forever, he needs to finish school and go to college so he can have a real life after you're gone. I was just trying to help him, but he wouldn't listen to me if I told him that. So you had to be the one to tell him no more adventures; he only listens to you."

"W-Well great job, sweetie, y-you helped him right out of the house and into the arms of killer aliens."

Rick almost regret that comment at the look of horror that grew on his daughter's face, but then he thought of all the times he'd had to wake Morty up from nightmares of his family leaving him, his mother choosing Summer over him with no hesitation, his world disappearing around him. And Rick didn't regret his comment one bit.

"He-he's going to be fine, right grandpa Rick?" Summer questioned hesitantly after an extended silence, her arms wrapped protectively around her torso as she stared at the stain on the floor. "He knows how to handle himself around aliens, and he isn't one to get into trouble doing illegal things like you would. He knows not to draw unwanted attention to himself, right?"

"It doesn't m-matter if he lays low or not, Sum-Summer," Rick replied quietly, his own eyes staring bleakly at the ceiling. "Everyone-everything in the galaxy knows a-about Rick and Morty by n-at this point. I'm not-I'm not the only one who is-who's considered an intergalactic terrorist at this point. M-Morty's on the universe's most wanted list, same as me."

"You have to find him, Rick!" Summer pleaded, her voice desperate as she thought of Morty being locked away in a high-security intergalactic prison with a bunch of other alien terrorists forever.

"I'm going to find him," Rick stated, no hint of a stutter or hesitation in his voice. "I hope-I just hope the kid can stay alive until then."

~~~~~~~

Several million light years away, Morty was trying very hard not to be shot by angry Terra Nimbians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea of a kick-ass independent Morty, so I hope you guys do too, cause that's where I'm heading with this story! And for those of you who want to see more of Rick and Morty actually interacting, don't worry, there'll be plenty of that too in the later chapters! Enjoy, comments and kudos appreciated :)


	4. Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty starts to figure out how to make it on his own.

Things were hard without Rick around to tell Morty what to do. The first couple planets Morty had visited left him with nothing more than stinging wounds and terrifying nightmares to add to his already extensive list of traumatic things to dream about. 

The first planet he'd visited, Terra Nimbus 9, had been in the middle of a civil war, and his arrival had sparked hostility from both sides of the battle. Apparently, no one on the planet wanted anything to do with intergalactic visitors after the last one they had had stolen the entirety of their planet's currency, which in turn sparked their civil war over the remaining resources. Morty was rather convinced that it had to be a Rick that did that. What other being could so easily visit another planet and basically destroy it within moments of their arrival.

After that, Morty had tried to get the ship to recount the last time Rick had been to the planets it was suggesting to the boy. The ship was less than forthcoming because of some sort of privacy setting Rick had programmed into it, so it took some fiddling with the hunk of metal before Morty could override the settings and manually access the data logs. The boy was glad he spent most of his time ogling at the amazing things Rick could do, because it meant he knew how to get into the inner workings of the ship and make minor changes without too many electric shocks and burned fingers. Morty made a point to avoid those planets that Rick had visited before him. 

The second planet Morty visited welcomed him just fine, as they happened to be an intergalactic hotspot and were used to foreign aliens visiting. After walking around for a bit and recognizing more than a few languages and species, Morty thought the second planet might be a good place to set up base for awhile to get his feet under him. That is, until the Federation spotted him walking around and tried to capture him. Morty spent three days sitting in a jail cell while they tried to hunt down Rick, who they assumed _must_ be somewhere near Morty. Without Rick, Morty thought he'd be stuck in jail to rot forever, but after remembering that he wanted to be his own person, Morty used what little knowledge he had to try to break himself out of jail. It took some time, but eventually Morty was able to persuade a guard to get too close to his cell and was able to kill him with a nail Morty had pulled out of his uncomfortable metal bed. Dragging the keys off the guard through the cell bars, Morty was able to let himself out, taking the dead alien's gun and shooting his way out of prison. 

Once back into space, Morty asked the ship to give him a heads up if the planet they were headed to was a known hub for the Galactic Federation. That didn't take much convincing at all, and the ship immediately agreed to analyze the comings and goings of gromflomites and federation ships before they landed on a planet. Morty gave the ship a fond smile and patted the wheel in appreciation when it warned him that the next three closest planets were also swarming with federation aliens. 

The most recent planet Morty had visited left him with an aching loneliness deep in his gut. While being chased by the natives for knocking over a sacred shrine (totally not is fault, someone had tripped him and he just kind of stumbled into the pile of ancient looking rocks), Morty forgot for a moment that Rick wasn't covering his back. Letting his guard down for a brief moment, thinking that Rick would make sure nothing happened to him, Morty was shocked when he felt a flare of pain in his right shoulder where his neck met his arm. Stumbling at the throbbing pain, Morty would have been overwhelmed by the group of angry aliens if he hadn't just made it back to the ship. Once he was in view, he shouted at the machine to kill the pursuers, and was relieved to see it pull out the ridiculously powerful guns it held and start killing the aliens left and right.

Now, sitting safety back in the ship and far out of the planet's atmosphere, Morty couldn't help but be angry at the gnawing hole he felt in his gut from something missing. 

"I-I'm not supposed to-why am I missing them?" he whispered to himself in the silent ship. Staring at the purple blood sprinkled all over his hands and arms, Morty heard phantom sounds of his grandfather's laughter echoing in the ship, Summer's annoyed whining, even the occasional memory of Beth and Jerry in the ship floated up to the front of his mind. "They don't-don't care about me, w-why should I care about them? Why should I miss being around-being with them?"

Sighing heavily, Morty reached into the back seat and pulled out some hand sanitizer that Rick had always made fun of him for bringing. "It's not my fault you're okay with sitting in a bunch of alien guts and I'm not," he mumbled to himself after pouring copious amounts of the goop onto his hands and trying to scrub away the viscous purple blood coating him. Once that was done, he pulled out the first aid kit, his shoulder throbbing just at the thought of being disinfected and maybe stitched up. 

Usually, Rick would pull out some 'fix-it-all' potion thing and wouldn't need to bother with the monotony of bandaging a wound, but out on his own, Morty had already become proficient in the skill, proven by the bandages still adorning his leg and forearm after his jail break a few days ago. The feeling of loneliness reared it's ugly head once more as Morty hissed at the sting of disinfectant, and he couldn't help wanting somebody, _anybody_ to be there with him in the moment.

"S-Ship?" Morty called bleakly, needing to hear another voice, even one that had a mechanical ring to it. 

The ship beeped in reply, waiting fro Morty to give it a command.

"I-I think-don't you think you need a name or-or something?" the boy mumbled, thinking of how much the hunk of metal had helped him in the last few days. It felt like more than just a vehicle at this point.

Or maybe Morty was just going crazy after only talking to the junk contraption for almost a week. 

"I mean, I-I can't just keep saying-keep calling you 'Ship'," he went on after a moment, sighing when the machine didn't answer him after a few seconds. "It just-it feels weird to act like-to think of you as only a machine after-when you've helped me so much."

After several beats of silence, a slight whirring and a feminine voice filled the ship, an intriguingly warm tone to the voice as it said, "As a machine, I have no such need for a name." Another beat of silence, then, "But I will take one if you feel the need to give me one."

Grinning, Morty momentarily forgot about the aches and pains of his body as he tried to think of a fitting name. "I-I think you should be named-maybe named after R-Rick. Since he is your-since he created you and all," Morty replied thoughtfully, his mind sorting through name after name, hesitating at 'Jessica' before discarding it. He hadn't felt his obsessive crush on her in years now, but it still made him cringe to think about the fact that his fourteen year old self totally would have named the ship Jessica. 

"But you-you're obviously a girl, so I can't just-you can't just be named Rick."

The ship beeped in reply, and Morty found himself smiling like the sound was some sort of inside joke. Yup, he was totally going crazy if he thought a machine was laughing with him. Shaking his head, he started listing similar names to Rick's. "Rachel? N-no, you don't seem like a Rachel. Rylee? Rae? Rica? Rochelle?" Morty paused, rolling the name around in his head, before grinning happily. "Y-Yeah, that's the one. Rochelle, y-you seem like a Rochelle."

After a moment of silence, the ship beeped and replied, "I shall respond to Rochelle."

Huffing out a snort, Morty cocked his head to the side and questioned uncertainly, "D-Do you like the name?"

"As a machine, I do not have likes or dislikes," came the immediate reply. Morty drooped slightly at the cold, mechanical tone, but perked up a little as the ship continue, "But if I had the ability to feel such things, I would like the name very much."

Grinning, Morty finished bandaging up his wound and patted the ship-Rochelle-fondly on the dash. "O-Okay then, Rochelle it is. Rochelle, can you tell me where the next closest non-hostile, non-federation planet is?"

~~~~~~~

Carefully maneuvering the ship, Morty landed in a small city on Dwarf Nubulon, a planet with rich red skies and two moons sitting large in the sky at all times of the day. The aliens there were mostly humanoid in figure, but their skin was a shiny sort of silver and they had no hair on their bodies, eyes all milky white. Honestly, Morty couldn't tell the difference between most of them besides the clothing, and they had no discernible difference between genders, if they even had genders. 

With his curly brown hair, peach skin, and brown eyes, Morty stuck out like a sore thumb to say the least. But he was used to being the odd alien out by now, and Morty didn't let it phase him as he walked down the streets and drew stares from every alien he passed. He scanned the shops for what he was looking for. Finally noticing a shop that looked like what he wanted, Morty slipped on the combination headphone-microphone device that worked as a universal translator, adjusting the size so the headphones would stay in place over his ears and the microphone hovered in front of his mouth. 

Trying to project an air of confidence, Morty pushed open the doors of the assumed pawn shop, the seediest looking one he could find. If he could sell Rick's shit and buy his own illegal things anywhere on this planet, this is where it would be. 

Glancing around at the mostly empty, but huge store, Morty walked through the forever-long isles for a moment, getting his bearings as he tried to plan what to say to the alien at the counter. Taking a deep breath, Morty waited until the only other customer in the store left before slowly making his way to the worker alien. The Nebulonian glanced up at Morty with a bored air, unfazed by his exotic looks. To Morty, the creature looked exactly the same as all the ones he'd seen so far, if not a little shorter.

Clearing his throat, Morty tried hard not to stutter as he said, "I have some-some things you might be interested in," and hoping his translator worked.

Doing what Morty assumed was the equivalent of raising it's eyebrow, it nonchalantly replied, "I might be. What've you got?" 

Sighing in relief that the translator was working, Morty reached into his satchel and pulled out the first thing that his hand touched, which happened to be one of the blueprints he'd seen laying around in Rick's workshop. He'd checked them all before he packed them to make sure none were anything too revolutionary or dangerous. He wasn't Rick, and he didn't want to be selling weapons of mass destruction to make a profit. 

The blueprint he'd pulled out this time was, as far as Morty could tell, a visor type thing that went over your eyes and gave you a threat reading on anyone who came into your vicinity. Morty thought that would be a pretty awesome thing to have considering the amount of people who wanted him dead or in prison. It'd be nice to know who was going to attack him as soon as he saw them, and it would definitely save him a lot of unnecessary time and pain. 

But as useful as it would be, Morty couldn't do anything with just a sheet of paper. He could hardly read Rick's messy scrawl on the paper, much less even dream of turning it into something. So here he was, at least trying to get a little bit of money off of it. 

Glancing at the paper placed in front of him, the alien prodded it with one careful finger, hesitantly asking, "What is it?"

Rolling his eyes, Morty unrolled the paper and slid it towards the alien so he could get a look. "It-It's blueprints for a threat detector. Would sell for-It would sell for a lot of money to the right-to the right people."

The alien's milky white eyes widened slightly as he leaned over the counter to get a closer look at the paper. Humming thoughtfully, the Nebulonian leaned away again and narrowed suspicious eyes at Morty. 

"That's all well and good, kid, but how do I know it'll work? I can't just hand you money for a sheet of paper when I don't know if it'll be a dud or not."

"It'll work," Morty immediately promised, knowing that if Rick made the blueprints then he was certain he could get it to work. "I-I've tested it myself," he lied, hoping that it wasn't completely obvious. He really needed the money at this point, he had almost run out of the currency he'd taken from Rick's lab.

The alien tilted his head from side to side thoughtfully, contemplating whether or not to believe the colorful, fleshy organism in front of him. Morty held his breath as the Nebulonian finally sighed and made a gurgling sort of noise in his throat. Morty wasn't really sure what that was supposed to mean, but the way the alien nodded was reassuring.

"Okay, here's the deal," the Nebulonian finally huffed out, shaking his head in exasperation. "You build me a completed version of this device, show me that it works, and I'll buy both the blueprints and the machine from you."

"I-uh," Morty stuttered, unsure of how to tell the alien that he had no idea how to read the papers he was trying to sell. "I-I don't h-have the parts for it right now," Morty finished lamely, cringing at the implication that he could make it if he had the resources.

The Nubulonian scoffed, raising one arm to gesture at the huge expanse of tools and supplies in the store around him. "Easy fix, kid. I'll let you use whatever you need to build it, and if it doesn't work then you'll just have to pay me back for the supplies you used."

"U-Uhm..." the human mumbled, scratching uneasily at his arms as he stared blankly at the blueprints in front of him. "Y-Yeah, um okay," Morty muttered without thinking, his eyes almost rolling back in his head as he realized that he'd just promised to build something of Rick's design. He'd never really built anything in his life, how in the hell did he think he was going to pull this off?

The Nebulonian grinned, its mouth stretching unnaturally wide and baring sharp, pointed teeth that had Morty cringing away and wishing he had the threat detector already. Holding out its smooth, iridescent silvery hand, the alien replied, "I'm glad you agreed, this could be a very useful tool to people in our line of work."

Morty hesitantly took the offered hand, shaking it weakly, his palms sweating and making the alien's smooth hand even more slick. "Y-yeah, it's, uh it's a pleasure to work-to do business with you," the boy mumbled, hoping this wasn't going to be a monumentally bad decision.

Dropping Morty's hand the alien gestured around the store and told Morty to start gathering supplies. "My name is Flurron by the way," the Nebulonian finished, barring his threatening teeth again in a smile. "You should know that much at least if we'll be working together."

"Morty," the boy replied, following Flurron as the alien showed him around the store. _If nothing else, it'll be an adventure,_ Morty thought bleakly to himself as he stared down at the indecipherable blueprints in his hand.


	5. Creation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty figures out he's not as dumb as he thought. Rick and Summer have a talk and Rick comes to a realization.

He didn't think he could do it. Morty honestly figured he'd just waste a bunch of Flurron's supplies and end up with nothing to show for it. Then he'd have to run away with his tail between his legs because there was no way he could pay for all the stuff he'd used. What a _Morty_ thing to do-run away screaming.

But not this Morty, not today. Morty of C-137 had done something that most other Mortys wouldn't even dream of.

He'd _built_ something. Not just anything, either. He'd built something that Rick had designed. _Rick_ , the smartest man in the universe-in all the universes and all the dimensions. A simple Morty Smith had created something from nothing but a near incomprehensible blueprint.

Sure, it took him almost three weeks of non-stop work and a lot of burnt fingers and exploding prototypes, but he'd done it. Morty Smith had created a perfectly functional set of threat detecting glasses. He'd never before been as proud of himself as he was in the moment he finished them.

Standing in the back room of Flurron's shop, Morty reached out a shaky hand to pick up the visor-like object in front of him, hesitantly slipping it over his head to settle comfortably over his eyes. Taking a deep breath and holding it, he flipped on the switch on the side of the machine. A short flash whited out the glasses for a second, then dimmed back down to leave a normal scene in front of Morty. Nothing had changed really, and Morty let out a slow breath, hoping that was because there was no one else in the room with him rather than because the device didn't work.

Shuffling his way out to the main part of the shop, Morty looked around at the handful of customers in Flurron's shop at the moment. As the boy's eyes landed on the first alien, stats immediately started rolling across the glasses, out of the way enough not to impede vision, but easy enough to read if he focused on them. The stats scrolled across Morty's vision in English, and the boy couldn't help the short breathy laugh that escaped his lips as he read that the Nebulonian had never even shot a gun and had no harmful intentions towards Morty or anyone else in the room. 

Whipping his head around to find the next target, Morty's grin widened as he read that one of the other aliens in the room must be some sort of mercenary based on an analysis of his micro movements, muscle development, and purchasing choices. Given levels of adrenaline and amygdala stimulation in the brain though, the alien wasn't likely to pose a threat to anyone in the store.

Morty whooped out an exhilerated laugh as he turned to Flurron, who was staring at Morty with the equivalent of a raised eye brow. Over the three weeks they'd known each other, Flurron had gotten used to Morty's antics and peculiarities, and now just watched the boy with mild curiosity rather than the open suspicion that had been prevalent when they'd started working together. 

Flurron's threat statistics were slightly surprising to Morty, given that the boy had thought the Nebulonion couldn't harm a fly. An analysis of muscle movements and calluses gave Morty the information that Flurron was most likely adept at using all kinds of guns, which was slightly disconcerting given that he could've easily killed Morty several times over while the boy was trying to figure out how to make the dumb glasses. But it was also determined that Flurron wasn't a personal threat to Morty, and that was all that really mattered he supposed.

"W-Wow, Flurron," Morty grinned mischievously, sauntering over the the counter to stand across from his friend. "You-you're a lot tougher than you seem, huh?"

The alien shrugged noncommittally, a Cheshire cat grin splitting his face as he replied, "You've gotta be in this line of work." Taking in the excited flurry of movement from Morty and the smile that wouldn't seem to go away, Flurron bemusedly huffed out, "So I take it you got them to work?"

"Y-yup, of course," Morty shrugged, faux nonchalance bleeding into his voice as he shot back, "Did-did you ever doubt me?"

"Absolutely," Flurron replied immediately, laughing at Morty's offended look. "You should've seen your petrified little face the first couple of days, you totally had no idea what you were doing! Honestly, the only reason I didn't kick you out that second day was because it was entertaining to see you roll around on the floor in frustration every time you couldn't figure out what to do."

Morty huffed out a resigned sigh, knowing he must've looked like a total idiot there for awhile. It took a couple tries for him to figure out what was what on the blueprints, and Flurron had walked in on him cursing out his frustrations on more than one occasion. The Nebulonian had even had to drag Morty out of his self-proclaimed lab several times to force the boy to eat and sleep, because once he started to figure out how the parts went together, Morty didn't want to waste a single second doing mundane things like taking care of his body. 

It was a matter of pride to Morty by the end; a way to prove to himself that he wasn't as useless as Rick and his family seemed to think he was. And now again, when Morty took off the device and handed it to Flurron to test, a warm feeling of confidence and pride bubbled up in Morty's stomach, warming his limbs and cheeks as Flurron grinned at the device.

The Nebulonian slipped on the glasses, turning his head to stare wide eyed at Morty. "Holy Mynflox, kid," Flurron breathed out in a bewildered voice as he looked Morty up and down. "You're like some sort of beast in disguise, aren't you?"

Tilting his head to the side, Morty uneasily scratched at the back of his neck as he stuttered out, "W-What do you mean?"

"I mean that I never would've guessed that you're as dangerous as you are," came the baffled voice, still staring unblinking at Morty in a way that made his skin crawl a bit. "I mean, 'proficient with basically any type of gun or blaster, escape artist, advanced hand to hand combat skills', what kind of life have you had that you're so young but so well versed in combat and killing?"

Morty huffed out a mirthless laugh, rolling his eyes as he replied, "M-My grandpa used to take-we used to go to some pretty hostile-some pretty nasty places, so I-I've picked up a few skills."

"A few skills my ass," Flurron laughed, slipping off the glasses and handing them back to Morty. "You're like some sort of killing machine! You know more things than most of the terrorists that come by my store."

Grin slipping off his face to be replaced by a slight sulk and a nauseous feeling in his stomach, Morty sourly replied, "Y-Yeah well I guess you-you really shouldn't judge a book b-by the cover. Just cause I l-look like some kid, doesn't-that doesn't mean I'm not a-a cold-blooded killer." 

Morty hated when he had to think about all the bloody things he'd done in the service of his grandfather. He tried his best to pretend all the murders he'd committed, cities he'd leveled, and planets he'd destroyed were just terrible nightmares instead of reality, but it was hard when someone told him he was more dangerous than most of the terrorist's he'd known. The sounds of screams and coppery taste of blood and ash still haunted him if he let his mind drift for too long.

"You're the farthest thing from a cold-blooded killer, kid," Flurron laughed, interrupting Morty's depressive spiral. At the questioning gaze the human sent him, Flurron rolled his eyes and elaborated, "Sure you can kill with the best of them, but that doesn't mean that you have no morals or kill for the fun of it. Having been by your side for almost a month now, I can tell that you're a good kid at heart."

"S-sure," Morty acquiesced, shrugging noncommitally, his eyes down cast as his mind delved into the darker parts of his memories. "D-Doesn't mean that-that I haven't done some terrible things, though."

"We've all done terrible things, kid," the Nebulonian replied gently, sensing that this conversation was tugging Morty into some dark places. "You can't let past actions hold you down or determine your future though."

At Morty's blank look, Flurron huffed out a laugh and elaborated. "Say you killed a nice Flurvian family in the past. Are you going to let that set the standard for the rest of your life, making you into a person who kills all the Flurvians you come across just because you killed a few in the past? Or are you going to try to save them, to help them and atone for your past crimes?"

"I-" Morty stuttered, his mind racing as he thought about things he'd never even bothered to consider before. Sure, he'd committed a lot of crimes and killed a lot of people, but had he ever even really tried to atone? Or had he been too busy wallowing in self pity to realize that he didn't only have to kill and steal. That for all the wrongs he'd committed, he could still try to do some good to even it out a bit. "I-I would try to atone."

"Yeah, I thought you might," Flurron laughed, slapping Morty on the back with his unnaturally slick hand. "You seem like the kind of person who would want to help others."

"I-I do want to help others," Morty whispered, a feeling like butterflies fluttering around in his stomach making him shift form foot to foot. "I want to do some good in this world, not-not just destroy things."

Shrugging his shoulders blandly, Flurron replied, "Okay, then do it."

And he could, Morty realized. He wasn't tied down by the orders of his grandpa. Of Rick, who only does things for his own benefit and doesn't care about the consequences to those around him, not even his family. Morty could go out and save kittens from trees and end world hunger and make a peace treaty between warring planets if that was what he wanted to do. He could do those things because he was free. He wasn't limited by the selfish wishes of his family, only by his own ability. 

And it's much easier to change yourself than it is to change another person. Morty could scream at Rick until he was blue in the face and it wouldn't even faze the cold man. However, if Morty's ignorance was what was holding the boy back, well that was something that he could change. All Morty had to do was learn and grow. He had to go out of his comfort zone and do things that would better himself. 

It wasn't too late. Morty could still change, and that realization broke something in the boy. It broke a fundamental piece of him, one create by self-loathing and doubt. It broke that cornerstone of his personality, and left room to build it anew. This time without the uncertainty and hatred, but with confidence and kindness instead. 

Morty could still change, and he planned to do it, even if he had to rebuild himself from the ground up.

"Hey, Flurron," Morty said slowly, a new glimmer of hope in his eyes as he smiled slightly at the alien. His first friend, one that wasn't Rick and wasn't introduced to him through Rick. "Can I keep those glasses? I-I'll make you another pair, but...but these ones are-they're important to me."

A smile of gentle understanding flashed on the Nebulonian's face before his signature cheshire grin split his lips, his milky white eyes rolling exaggeratedly. "I suppose, but you have to promise this pair won't take three weeks to make."

"Of course," Morty immediately agreed, thinking of the blueprints in his head. Now that he'd done it once, Morty was convinced he could make another pair in only a few days. 

And if he could make the glasses, what was to say he couldn't make all the other devices on the blueprints he'd stolen. And as a matter of fact, what was to say Morty couldn't create all new blueprints, and make things that he thought of himself? Morty had no idea what he was capable of because he'd honestly never tried to figure out what he could do. He'd figured that anything he could do would pale in comparison to what Rick could do, so why even bother trying?

Sure he missed Rick, but well, could anyone blame him? Rick had been the center of his world for so long that its still sometimes hard for Morty to remember that he's his own person, not just an extension of the elderly man. Morty was still trying to figure out who he was when Rick showed up. And then the man came exploding into his life, power and knowledge and charisma in droves, and Rick just sucked Morty right into his being. The boy had no chance to figure out who he himself was when he was too busy trying to become a part of Rick. But now, now Morty could see who he was without the overpowering man who had come to mean so much to him, even when he meant so little to Rick.

The universe was vast and he had nothing but time and space to figure things out.

~~~~~

Rick felt broken. Hollow and useless. It'd been almost a month since his grandson, his Morty, had run away. A month, and Rick couldn't find a single trace of the kid. It was like he just disappeared. Rick had tried to go to all the places he and Morty frequented, or the places that he knew the kid had enjoyed. But no Morty. 

Rick tried to contact his ship, to manually control it until it came home, but it was like the ship itself was rejecting him. Every time Rick got a foot in the door, the ship immediately kicked him out. And how had it been able to do that? Rick sure as hell didn't put in a program that would keep himself out of the ship, and he was certain Morty wouldn't know how to do something like that.

It was like the universe itself was against him finding Morty. Rick had even resorted to going to the citadel and talking to other Ricks, trying to find out if their Mortys had run away.

No one else that he'd talked to had lost their Morty, and that hurt Rick just as much as it created an overflowing sense of pride in the aged man. He knew his Morty was special, and he was almost proud of the kid for realizing that Rick was toxic and escaping while he could.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt, and it sure as fuck didn't mean that Rick wouldn't do everything is his power to get Morty back. He couldn't lose the kid, even if he knew that he was bad for Morty.

"Hey, grandpa Rick?" Summer hesitantly called into the open garage door, shuffling from foot to foot as she stared sadly at the poor excuse of a man in front of her. "It's been a few days since you've come out of the garage. I know you're trying to find Morty, and trust me when I say I know how important it is to get him back, but don't you think you should take a break? Go eat some real food, sleep in your own bed, you know, that kind of thing."

"S-Shut uuUUPPp Summer," Rick grumbled, his voice a scratchy rasp as he hadn't eaten or slept in several days. He didn't have time for stupid things like that when his Morty was out there probably getting mauled by some alien right now. "I d-don't need your annoying, bitchy-your whiny voice in my-in my ear right now."

Glaring daggers at the man, Summer harshly girt out, "Did you ever think that maybe comments like that are why Morty left? That you're part of the reason Morty left?"

Spinning around in his chair, Rick bared his teeth and spat back, "The-the fuck did you say, _Summer_?"

Throwing her hands up at the immediate aggressive tone Rick pulled, Summer huffed out, "Yeah Rick. _You_ are part of the reason he left. You better accept that if you don't want him to just up and leave again once we find him!"

"Oh d-don't woOOorry," Rick replied menacingly, his eyes flashing dangerously as he spun back around to tinker with the device at his work table. "T-That little shit won't-he won't be going anywhere once I find-catch him."

" _That's_ what I mean, Rick," Summer accused, her finger jutting out to point at the man. "You throw around insults and derogatory words, but you won't let the kid away from your side. If he was really so useless and terrible, why won't you ever let him go? Why'd you keep him around?"

"For his-his moronic brain waves, of course," Rick hissed, his head falling tiredly into his palms as he avoided Summer's piercing eyes. "And don't-you can't take the high road here, Summer. You ignooOOring the kid did just as much-did damage to the idiot, too."

Shrugging, Summer walked over to stand by Rick's side, gazing down at the tired old man before her. She'd never seen the man look so...so human before. He'd always been larger than life to her, but now, now he just looked like an old man that lost his family. 

"I've accepted my part in Morty's running away, and I promised myself that as soon as he comes back I'll tell Morty just how important he is to me. Can you say the same?"

Rick didn't reply, choosing instead to weakly grab his flask and take a long pull from it. Summer's words hit him harder than he'd ever admit.

Of course he knew that he treated the kid like shit, how could he not? Morty's hurt and betrayed gaze haunted him every time he closed his eyes. But... but if he didn't hurt Morty, if he didn't make the kid feel like less than the dirt under Rick's feet, then what would happen when Morty realized he was too good for Rick? What would happen when Morty realized that Rick wasn't the genius, all-knowing, all-powerful man Morty had built up in his mind? When he figured out Rick was just as fallible as everyone else, and there was nothing there for Morty to admire. That there was no reason for Morty to stay. 

What would Rick do when Morty realized Rick wasn't worth his admiration. If Morty got too confident, if he got too independent, then he'd leave Rick. 

Then Rick would be alone.

"Just...just think about it, Rick," Summer muttered, breaking Rick out of his depressive spiral. "If you go on treating Morty as you've always treated him, well, the kid has no reason to stay with you anymore. He's already done it once. There's nothing holding him back anymore."

And that was the thing, wasn't it. Rick had done everything in his power to keep Morty here, to keep him feeling too weak and useless to ever be on his own, to ever be without Rick. And yet.

And yet Morty still left. 

And yet, here Rick was, alone without his Morty. And he'd done it to himself.

He's the reason Morty left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everybody who's still with me and supporting my story, I have big plans for Rick and Morty's future reunion! But before that, More Angst! And more of Morty discovering who he wants to be. As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!


	6. A New Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some time passes, Morty grows into himself. Rick has lost hope, but someone kicks him into action.

Hours turned into days turned into weeks, and before he knew it, Morty had been on his own for almost six months. _Six months_ he'd survived on his own in space. In fact, he'd more than survived, he'd _thrived_. Morty Smith was no longer the same damaged, self hating kid who'd run away from home a half a year ago. He felt like he'd been born anew.

Gone were the bouts of anxiety attacks and crushing uncertainty and self loathing. Instead, when Morty felt the tell tale quickening of breath and narrowing of vision that signified the start of a panic attack, the boy knew how to pause and take a breath. He'd slowly go through all the things he'd accomplished by himself in the last few months, closing off his mind to the whispering voices of his family in the back of his head that said he was worthless and always would be. 

And how fucked up was it that the taunting voices that still haunted him and made him question his self worth were the voices of his own blood, the voices of the people he still couldn't make himself completely forget about. As much as Morty had grown in the past months, he still ached for his mom's home cooking sometimes, for his and his sister's shared looks of annoyance across the kitchen table when their parents argued, for his dad's gentle smile and stupidly simple outlook on life. For Rick's manic grin. For Rick's nimble fingers flying over machinery and chemicals to create something new. For Rick's callous words and easy mocking laugh. For Rick's constant presence, even when Morty didn't want to leave his room or speak to anyone. For Rick. For his family.

Shaking his head sharply to dislodge that train of thought, Morty tried again to focus on what was happening around him. There were several different species of aliens around the store, marveling at the table of small devices Morty had put together before the auction a couple hours ago. Flurron stood behind Morty a bit, keeping a close eye on the customers swamping his store to make sure no one stole anything.

The auction was an idea Morty had come up with a couple months back. He'd been able to build a small variety of things using Rick's blueprints, and then Morty had learned to expand on those ideas. To use all he'd learned from the old genius and all he'd learned from his own trial and error in order to create new things of his own design. Then, Morty had decided to take a page out of his grandfather's book and sell the devices he'd made.

But that's where the similarities between him and Rick ended. Whereas Rick sold his inventions to the highest bidder, Morty only sold his things to _good_ people. He didn't sell weapons to assassins, or valuable devices to terrorists. No, Morty Smith only sold to people he trusted to use them for the greater good, or at least to people he knew wouldn't harm or kill others with his inventions. 

It'd been hard, at first, for Morty to find a big enough yet discreet customer base to keep being able to fund his invention making process and keep him fed and clothed. More than once Flurron, whom he'd moved in with after the glasses making debacle, had tried to convince Morty to sell to his normal seedy customers, just for long enough to get a little money and until he found the right people to actually sell to. But Morty had immediately refused. He didn't want to be involve in illegal weapons dealing ever again, it was against his new morals.

And Morty refused to turn back on his self promises so soon after he'd made them. 

It had taken some exploring, some dangerous situations, and some fighting, but Morty finally felt satisfied with how far he'd come. Most of his customers were refugees from war stricken planets, political activists, underground rebellion leaders, or other such creatures who fought for positive changes on their home planets. Morty had gotten into more than a few tough situations in the last months tha had landed him with new scars and a new outlook on the tragedies of the universe.

He'd spent a week and a half living in poverty on Beta Venzuan with war refugees while he tried to convince the camp chief to trust him and to use Morty's device that turned any liquid into fresh water. Once he'd convinced the alien that he meant no harm, Morty had gained several new customers that scrounged up what they could to buy things from Morty that would make the refugees' lives a little easier.

He'd spent three weeks bouncing between the four moons of Gondria 9 passing secret messages between the small rebel groups stationed on each moon to help bring down the dictator terrorizing the larger planet they'd fled from. After weeks of going back and forth, Morty was able to figure out how to create a non-traceable communication device by having his ship Rochelle explain to him how her own communication device worked. The rebel aliens had been so thankful towards him that they'd vowed to allow him safe passage through their star system for the rest of his life. He'd gained a few more customers during those weeks.

Four days were dedicated to helping a kidnapped princess return safety to her home planet. Nine days to creating a device to turn rotten food fresh again for the poverty stricken aliens of Glorpdel. Two weeks for transporting rebel political activists from city to city on Zeta Dorbark so they could spread their messages to the oppressed people of their planet. A month to ending the reign of a tyrant who killed anyone who dared speak against it. 

Each solo adventure that Morty went on, each success that he'd had, each person he'd saved helped heal the boy a little bit, soothing the raging hate he'd had for himself and his past actions with Rick. He felt like he was slowly being redeemed, being forgiven for all the atrocities he'd committed as a boy. He felt like he was worth something to all the people he'd saved.

And boy was that a new feeling. 

A raised voice brought Morty back to the present again as he surveyed the store to see what had caused the noise. Shrugging on his draping, dark brown bullet proof leather jacket and slipping on his universal translator and threat detecting visor-like glasses, Morty smoothly made his way towards the arguing aliens by one of his more recent inventions.

Sidling up next to the non-humanoid creatures, Morty held up his palms in a placating gesture, calmly saying, "O-Okay guys, take a breath."

Both aliens glanced at Morty, their empty eye sockets widening and cowering a little as they realized who was talking to them. Morty knew that these past few months he'd really started to grow into himself, both body and mind, but it was still a little weird for him to see _anyone_ intimidated by him. His body had followed his mind right along in it's growth, making Morty shoot up several inches in the last six months. Now, while still not as tall as his grandfather, Morty towered over most of the humanoid aliens in the room at five feet ten inches tall. He'd gotten a similar lanky build to Rick, but his chest, arms, and legs had all filled out with sleek muscles that he knew were more than a little pleasing to the eye based on the number of propositions he'd gotten in past months.

He'd let his curly brown hair grow out, making it into a wild mane-like nest of loose ringlets that seemed to have a mind of it's own half the time. His longer hair framed his narrowed face that had lost most of it's baby fat to turn into a rather chiseled shape. He'd long ago traded out his sunshine yellow t-shirt for a more muted mustard yellow long sleeved one that hugged the muscles of his chest in a flattering way, if Morty said so himself. He wore loose fitting dark blue jeans and tennis, a dark brown leather jacket hugging his shoulders and protecting him from stray bullets with it's newly invented blast proof fabric.

All-in-all, Morty gave off the air of a powerful presence in the room, especially seeing as most of the other aliens there had been saved by the boy at one point or another in the last few months.

"M-Morty, sir!" One of the aliens stuttered, flustered at gaining Morty's attention. "I'm sorry about the noise, we uh, we were just trying to decide who needed the invisibility device more, his rebellion or mine."

Laughing lightly at the bewildered look on both alien's faces, Morty gently replied, "I can-I'll make another one so that-so both of you can free your people. Just give me a-a few days."

Both aliens ended up practically grovelling at Morty's feet after that, making the boy severely uncomfortable. He wasn't used to so much positive attention, it was weird. Giving a poor excuse to leave, Morty rushed away to talk to his other customers, surveying the buyer turn out and checking to make sure all his usual people were here. Grimacing, he noticed one of his regular Glopdels wasn't around today, he'd have to make a trip to the planet and check on his friend to make sure he wasn't dead.

Morty jumped slightly as Flurron sidled up next to him, the nebulonian's cheshire grin comfortably splitting his face. "Would you look at that, Mort," he chuckled, his sharp teeth catching the light. "I think this week's turnout is the biggest one yet. That trip to Blemfork really brought in a big haul."

"Y-Yeah, the people there were really-they really appreciated my help."

Flurron nodded along with Morty, silently watching the dozens of aliens wander through his store. This is the most good he'd ever done in his life, and he didn't regret taking Morty in for a single moment. Watching the smiling faces of his customers as they discussed their hopes and dreams, Flurron was more grateful for Morty than he'd ever be able to tell the boy.

"Auction days are the only time my store is ever filled with people who don't want to do me or anyone else harm, and I gotta say it's a pretty weird sight, kid."

Glancing around at the aliens through his threat detecting goggles, Morty was relieved to see that it was true. Not a single being in the room had any harmful intentions towards them, and it made Morty's heart soar. This was the goal he was working towards. A safe place for people to come and find things to help each other. It was everything Morty had hoped it would be and more.

Finally, after months of struggling and working and frustration, Morty felt completely liberated from his grandpa and his family. He wasn't the same person as them, he was his own man. He wasn't some useless tool for them to use whenever they pleased and forget about otherwise. 

He was Morty Smith and he wouldn't be ignored any longer. 

~~~~~

Rick lay in the living room, an empty bottle of jack held loosely in his fingers that draped lazily off the couch. The tv was turned on, but the noise just went in one ear and out the other as Rick stared blankly at the screen. It'd been awhile since he'd payed attention to anything.

In one hand, Rick clutched tightly to a worn down slip of paper, thinned by the oil of his fingers and constant wear. The elderly man rubbed absently over the words he knew were written there, his heart clenching painfully as his mind spun with thoughts of a "Free Replacement Morty".

He was seriously considering cashing in his ticket, if only to assuage the guilt and worry eating at his daughter and granddaughter. They didn't have to know that the new Morty wasn't their original, and then they would be able to smile again. To laugh in that carefree way he'd taken for granted all those months ago before Morty had left.

Of course, then Rick would have to leave, which might make the entire point moot if they regained one family member and lost another. Because there was absolutely no way Rick would be able to stay here and pretend that some random Morty was _his_ grandson. His Morty was lost, but he wouldn't let some random kid take his place. His Morty was different, was special, and no other one would do for the Rickest Rick there was. 

But that didn't mean he should take away the chance for another Morty from his family. Hell, the Morty who'd run away from them wasn't even this Beth and Summer's original Morty, so what the hell would they care if Rick gave them another new one. Rick was the only one who'd notice that it wasn't really their Morty, his Morty. And he couldn't be around to watch them forget Morty of C-137 and cozy up to another random one instead.

It would crush his already broken heart. Especially because Rick had basically given up on finding his Morty. After six months of dead ends, it just seemed so unlikely that he'd ever find his kid grandson again that he'd secretly already lost all hope. By this point, he was kind of just going through the motions to appease his daughter.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Rick," came a sudden voice behind him as nimble fingers snatched the slip of paper out of his gnarled old hand. "You were just going to _replace_ my brother?" Summer seethed, disdain dripping from her voice. "You shitty, old bastard. How dare you think you can just get a new Morty and forget about our's. You think you can just trade in your old, _defective_ one for a shiny new grandson who will actually listen to you again? Who will worship the ground you walk on again?"

Rick let out a tired sigh, all the fight having left him some months ago. Now he just felt exhausted. 

"I wasn't doing it for-for myself, Summer," Rick muttered bitterly, resigned to being yelled at by his granddaughter no matter what he said. "I was g-gooOOoing to do it for you and Beth."

"For _us_?" Summer yelled, pacing around behind the couch as she glared dagger's at Rick's unresponsive face. Groaning, she tore up the replacement Morty coupon and dumped the shreds of paper over Rick's head. A cruel sort of satisfaction warmed her gut at the devastated face Rick made. "We don't want some random Morty, we want our Morty."

Finally spinning around to glare at Summer, Rick stood up to his full height, towering over the young adult. Summer didn't back down in the slightest, matching Rick snarl for snarl.

"He's not _our_ Morty, he-he's _my_ Morty," Rick snarled, his anger finally overcoming him. "Your ooOOOoriginal Morty is long-is dead and y-you didn't even-didn't notice the difference until M-Morty told you he wasn't your first-your original brother. What the f- _fuck_ makes you-makes you think this would be-be any different?"

Throwing her hands in the air, Summer rolled her eyes and replied heatedly, "Oh get off your high horse, grandpa Rick. Sure, he's not my first brother, but that doesn't mean I don't love him. That doesn't mean I don't want him to be happy back here with us. You don't have the monopoly on my brother, Rick. Just because you miss him doesn't mean we can't miss him too."

"W-Well then you better get u-used to missing him then, _Summer_ ," Rick grumbled, his body falling dejectedly back onto the couch as Summer narrowed her eyes. "B-BeeEEecause he's-Morty's probably gone for good-gone forever."

Walking around the couch to stand in front of the old man, Summer muttered, "What do you mean gone for good?"

"It's been six months, Summer," Rick exclaimed unhappily, his eyes falling shut as he massaged his temples with his fingers and searched for his flask. "There's no-no waaAAaay Morty is still-Morty is alive after this long."

"What the fuck makes you think that?"

"Have you-have you met your brother, Summer?" Rick sighed, his hands falling limply by his sides when he didn't find any alcohol. "He-the stupid idiot can't take care of-of himself. He-He'd be dead a mil-a billion times over if I didn't-without me. On his own f-for six months? He probably-he most likely died in the first week."

"So you've given up?" Summer whispered, for once unable to bring the burning anger to the surface as she stared at the broken look on her grandpa's face. "That's it? You're done looking for him?"

"I've tried everything," Rick replied just as quietly, unable to break the melancholic mood that had settled between them. "I don't-I _don't know what else to do_. I j-just don't-I don't _kno_ _w_ , Summer!"

The young girl backed up slightly as Rick's head fell into his palms, his back bent under the weight of his years, his spinal column protruding noticeably in his unnaturally thin state. Taking a deep breath, Summer tried to calm herself, to step into Rick's shoes and understand what he was going through. Sure, he acted all tough and nonchalant about Morty's disappearance, but honestly, Rick was probably the one most hurt my it. Rick and Morty had always been a unit, always inseparable no matter the obstacle. So it must hurt all the more to know that Rick himself was one of the major reason's Morty left.

Resolving to fix this, Summer roughly grabbed Rick by the lapels of his lab coat and yanked his thin body off the couch and onto his feet, an easy feat considering the amount of weight the man had lost in the last few months. Startled eyes met hers questioningly as Rick tried to swipe her hands off his coat. She refused to let go.

Giving Rick a little shake, Summer growled, "All right. Listen here you old bastard, you _will not_ give up on my brother. Unless I get hard proof of my brother's death, you will keep looking for Morty for as long as it takes to find him.

Frowning and finally shoving Summer off of him, Rick grumbled,"I already-I told you that I've done all-I've done everything I can to find him! It's all just dead ends, Summer."

Silently pondering that, Summer shoved her hands in her pockets and glared at the floor in thought. 

"We need help."

Raising his eyebrow, Rick gave a mirthless laugh as he shot back, "If-If I can't figure it out, then-then noOOo one can."

Rolling her eyes at Rick's arrogance, Summer walked towards the garage, a satisfied grin twisting her lips as she heard Rick follow her. "You've been all over the universe and made friends and enemies of people everywhere you go. You have contacts all over the multiverse, Rick. We need them."

"They-none of them are smart enough to-to find Morty."

Summer let out a small groan as she spun around to face Rick. "You know, for the smartest man in the universe, you're pretty dumb." She laughed a bit at the face Rick made at that comment, the sound foreign in her ears after so many months of oppressive sadness. "They don't need to be smart, they just need to have eyes and a way to contact you. Morty has to be somewhere, so it stands to assume that _someone_ has seen Morty around. If you ask all your friends to keep an eye out, and they ask all their friends, and they ask all _their_ friends. Well, someone is bound to find him eventually."

Rick blinked slowly, his head tilted to the side as he considered the amount of people he could contact with minimal effort. "That's-that's actually not a t-terrible idea," he murmured quietly, his mind already spinning with ideas and plans on how to contact the most amount of people as quickly as possible. 

"I know," Summer replied easily, reaching for Rick's portal gun. "So what are we waiting for? Let's go."

Shooting a portal to Squanchy's home planet, Summer glanced at Rick's bewildered face, grinning as she jumped through. 

"Your pride and unwillingness to ask for help will be your downfall one day, old man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh thank you guys so much for all your awesome comments and support!! It means so much to me to see that people are enjoying my story and it really keeps me trying to update at a quick pace! I think the story is a little over halfway done, the climax should be in one or two more chapters (unless some random inspiration hits me and draws me into another little storyline lol). But again, I love all you guys and thanks so much for continuing to read!  
> Ps, I've had a cold for like a week and it was miserable writing this with a killer headache, so please excuse any mistakes I've made in my drugged up, cold-medicine haze. I'll come back and fix things later when I can't feel my brain throbbing in my skull anymore :)


	7. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Summer search for Morty.

Sure Rick knew a lot of people, but honestly? Most of them hated his guts. It was to be expected, of course. People innately hated those that were better than themselves, it was human nature to be consumed by jealousy and equally crave and despise that which they lacked. 

And Rick knew he had many things that most everyone lacked. For starters, a fucking brain. It still baffled him how so many idiots could exist in this world. It really was absurd that not everyone but him hadn't died off yet. Most people lacked the brain capacity and genius that Rick possessed, which was why almost everyone he met either wanted to kill him or wanted to fuck him. Sometimes both.

He wasn't complaining though. It sure as hell kept his life interesting.

Such as now, when he and Summer were running screaming from a Gorplan with whom Rick had had a torrid love affair in the past and apparently still held a grudge that he'd figuratively dined and dashed. 

"What the fuck did you do to this one, Rick? She seems angrier than the last six people who've tried to kill us!" Summer screamed as they skidded into an alley where Rick pulled out his portal gun and shot a portal into the garage. 

Jumping through just as the Gorplan woman rounded the corner to try to shoot them, Rick cackled a little and answered with a manic grin on his face.

"Sh-She's just mad I didn't-I didn't stick around to-to father her children or some shit," the man laughed, a harsh burp interrupting the next sentence before he continued. "Crazy bitch want-wanted to lay our eggs. F-Fuck that shit." Pausing thoughtfully, Rick took a swig of his flask and hummed, "But it prob-it almost would've been worth it. She had the _tightest_ -"

"Oh fuck no," Summer screeched, her hands flying up to cover her ears as a look of disgust twisted her face. "I don't want to hear about your gross sexcapades, Rick!"

"Y-You asked Summer. YoOOou can't-you can't get mad when I answer."

"I didn't ask for all the details of your last fuck with her, Rick. Just gross."

"D-Don't be such a prude, Summer," Rick replied in exasperation, rolling his eyes at the girl. "Morty, that little-the perv, would be hanging off my-hanging off my every word right now."

"TMI, Rick," Summer groaned, her head falling into her hands as she closed her eyes in disgust. "I so don't need to know about Morty's obsession with your sex life."

Rick just cackled, delighted to make Summer squirm. The last few days of hunting around for information about Morty had brought back some of Rick's old spark, some slight feeling of hope every time some alien or another gave a vague piece of information about a peach skinned kid they'd seen running around the multiverse. By the sounds of it, the little twerp had been busy.

Rick didn't know whether to feel proud or annoyed.

So he settled on annoyed. Rick felt that it was a pretty justified feeling, though. The kid he practically raised into the man he was, the kid who was supposed to stick with Rick forever, had left him and become successful all on his own, using Rick's tech to do it. And that was so not okay with Rick.

It was supposed to be Rick and Morty a hundred years, Rick and Morty forever. _Not_ Morty and his pathetic new feelings of self confidence forever.

"Rick," Summer said sharply, snapping her fingers in front of the man's face. "You're muttering like a loon again." When the man only grimaced and shook his head, she softened a bit and gently continued, "Thinking about Morty?"

"Shut up, _Summer_ ," Rick grit out in annoyance, aggravated that he'd gotten caught. "NoOOone-none of your business."

Rolling her eyes at the abrasive tone, Summer just plowed forward, ignoring Rick's obvious discomfort. "Have you thought about what you're going to say to him once we find him?"

"N-No, Summer," Rick spat, turning his back on the girl as he shuffled papers around on his desk and tried to find his flask. "B-Because I'm not a sentimental, _idiot_."

"Yeah, you're just an emotionally constipated jackass," the girl muttered under her breath. Rick turned slightly to glare at her, but Summer just raised an unimpressed brow in reply. "You really should think about it a little. You need to make sure Morty knows that he isn't just some useless cloaking device in your eyes, because I know for a fact that that's what he thought before he left." 

Rick huffed angrily but didn't reply. A few beats too long of silence let Summer know that the elderly man wouldn't be answering her anytime soon, and she rolled her eyes at his childish behavior. He really could be such a brat for someone over sixty years old.

"Whatever, Rick," Summer finally huffed out, done trying to get the man to acknowledge her. "Just think about it. You don't want to mess this up even more than it already is."

"Fuck off, Summer," Rick muttered, not making eye contact as the girl threw up her hands in exasperation and stormed out of the garage to leave Rick alone in his sulking.

Even with the girl gone though, Rick couldn't get her words out of his head. What _should_ he say to Morty when he saw him again? Because now, Rick was almost certain that they would meet again. He'd been collecting evidence for days that proved the kid was still alive. Thriving even.

He couldn't help the tiniest bit of dread that knotted his stomach at the idea of their reunion, though. The kid had abandoned him after all, what does one even say to a person after a betrayal like that? Of course, Rick knew Morty had had good reason to leave Rick, but it still dealt the man a crushing blow that was hard to come back from, hard to forgive. Hell, Rick knew that if it was anyone else but Morty, he'd make that person's life a living hell for making Rick feel the way he did right now.

But it _was_ Morty. So Rick just felt a complicated mix of self-loathing, hurt, and hope at the thought of reuniting with the boy. 

He didn't know how those feelings would translate into his behavior towards the boy though. Rick sometimes wished he could be more open about his feelings, but he'd been betrayed and used too often to let himself wear his heart on his sleeve. It was just impossible for him now to easily be able to share his emotions with anyone, even the boy whom he considered his closest companion these days.

Knowing he had an irrational tendency to lash out at anyone and everyone didn't stop him from doing it. And knowing that Morty didn't deserve any of the verbal beatings Rick gave him didn't help Rick stop dealing them out with a grimace of disappointment on his face. It physically pained Rick, afterwards, if he thought too long on the things that he would say to Morty without even processing the words before they slipped out of his mouth like poison. But he just couldn't stop them from spewing out like daggers, stabbing Morty in all his vulnerable places. It was second nature for Rick to defend his own heart by breaking another's.

"Should-should I even t-try to bring him back?" Rick whispered to himself, a bit of his vulnerability seeping out now that he was alone. After hearing about all Morty's little success stories, it was hard for Rick to keep telling himself that the boy would be safer with him. Would be happier. 

Obviously he wasn't happy with Rick or he wouldn't have left in the first place. 

It hurt more than he would ever admit to think about that, but for once, Rick didn't let himself be fooled by his own delusions of grandeur. For once, he made himself dwell on all the wrongs he'd committed on the boy he claimed he cared about. Loved even, much as it pained him to admit it, even just to himself.

Tears prickled uncomfortably behind Rick's eyes as flashes of Morty's pained, betrayed, and despairing face floated around in his head. All put there because of Rick's barbed words, careless actions, and cruel behaviors. 

All because of Rick.

Morty would most likely be better off without the old man to drag him down, but Rick didn't know if he could make himself give him up. He'd already sunk his claws into the kid, and Rick knew more than anything else that he was a selfish creature at heart. Rick wanted what he wanted and he didn't take no for an answer. And he wanted Morty by his side.

But if it meant that Morty would be miserable, could Rick actually force the kid to stay when he clearly had so much potential to become more? To become a better man than he ever would've become in Rick's cold-hearted care.

A shrill ringing interrupted Rick's spiraling thoughts, and he shook himself out of his melancholy before he stumbled over to the small intergalactic phone resting on his desk. It was a message from Squanchy, three little words that somehow flipped Rick's world upside down at the same time as setting it back on its axis.

_I found him._

Ricks heart stopped as he stared slack-jawed at the words. Before he could formulate a reply, another short text followed, giving the name of a planet and a set of coordinates.

Not taking even a second to think about the fact that Summer would probably want to come with, or that he hadn't decided what to say to the boy once he saw him, Rick numbly grabbed his portal gun and put in the coordinates that would bring him to Morty, shooting off a green circle of light and unthinkingly stepping through.

He just had to get to Morty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy New Year!! Sorry for the lack of Morty, but I felt like I needed to get this out of the way before I could move on. Next chapter we finally get some Rick and Morty interactions so get pumped for that! Hopefully I'll get this next update out within a few days. Thanks again to all my lovely fans who comment and keep me motivated, you guys are the best!


	8. Rocky Rickunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Morty reunite. It doesn't go exactly as they'd hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy surprise New Year chapter! Hopefully this'll help people start their year on a good note!

Rick had planned to at least be civil towards Morty when he saw the kid again, he really did. That plan flew right out the window when he actually saw the boy-well, really he was more of a man now. And wasn't that an absolute shock to Rick.

When Morty had left, he was just a scrawny, socially awkward kid who didn't know how to handle himself or others. Now though, Rick's jaw almost hit the ground to see how much the boy had flourished in just six short months. He was like a completely different person, and Rick couldn't help the way his knees weakened slightly to see how much Morty had grown without him there to hold the boy back.

Morty had to be almost as tall as Rick now and, while far from buff, he had more muscle than Rick's lanky body had ever been able to put on. His curly chocolate colored hair had grown out and he wore a kick-ass leather jacket that Rick was actually surprised he pulled off so well. 

But more surprising than his physical growth, the radiant smile curving the boy's lips shook Rick to the core. He had only seen Morty smile so wide and so carefree a handful of times. Usually the boy only let small hesitant grins and forced smiles grace his young face. 

Well, when you lived the kind of life that they did, it got hard to smile for real, but Rick hadn't noticed just how fake Morty's little smiles were until now, seeing what a real and honest one looked like on the kid's face. It was beautiful, the way his eyes crinkled closed a bit and his grin was a little lopsided when stretched so wide. Rick had no idea how he'd missed just what Morty's happiness should look like.

Rick stood across a wide, busy street staring at what looked like an alien pawn shop. Morty stood in the open doorway to say goodbye to a wide array of aliens filing out of the store, smiling and shaking hands with most, even giving a few hugs to the more sentimental ones. 

It made Rick's skin crawl to see Morty letting his guard down so completely around a bunch of random aliens. Hadn't he taught the boy not to trust anyone? Morty could've easily been killed over a dozen times just during the short time Rick had been watching him. Rick knew Morty had always been more willing to trust and see the good in others than Rick himself, but the elderly man had figured Morty had lost that part of himself as a consequence of their many adventures gone wrong because of betrayals by those working with them. Apparently not though, and Rick didn't know whether to be happy that Morty's spark of innocence hadn't been completely crushed by Rick, or annoyed that the boy still didn't understand the kind of dangers that came with trusting anyone.

The annoyance won out when Rick watched a random silver skinned, humanoid alien come up behind Morty and drape himself over the boy's back, whispering something in Morty's ear that made the boy positively cackle. Even Rick couldn't make Morty howl with laughter like that so easily, and an inexplicable fury rose up in the elderly man at the obvious camaraderie between the two.

How could Morty replace Rick so easily, didn't the boy care about him at all? Didn't he remember Rick and Morty a hundred years, Rick and Morty forever?

Just as Rick was thinking that maybe it would be better if he went back to get Summer to mediate the reunion, a startled gasp snapped him back to the present. He looked up to meet wide hazel eyes across the packed street. 

Everyone else faded to the background as Rick and Morty stared bewilderedly at each other. Rick had no idea what his face looked like at that moment, but the way Morty's face flashed with a complex mix of longing, hope, anger and disgust churned Rick's stomach. The worst part was the slight fear that Rick could see in Morty, and how in the hell did Rick let things get bad enough for Morty to... _fear him?_ Be annoyed, angry, disgusted, sure. Those were all things he could expect from Morty. But fear? That was something he'd never wanted the boy to feel because of him.

 _Say something, you old coot_ , Rick harshly demanded to himself, unsure of how to break the fragile balance that existed before either had spoken and made the situation real. Rick's whirling thoughts ground to a halt when the same silver alien came back out of the store seemingly to check up on Morty. The alien dared to lay a hand on Morty's shoulder, dared to smile at the boy and ask him if he was okay. 

_That should be me_ , Rick screamed internally, his anger briefly whiting out the rest of his thoughts and feelings. Before he could even think about it, words came tumbling out of his mouth, Rick's body jerkily shoving people aside to cross the street to get to Morty.

"W-What the _fuck_ do you thi-think yooOOou're doing, you fuck-fucking cunt bitch?"

 _Well, fuck,_ Rick mourned the loss of Morty's look of hope and longing as his face completely shut down in the wake of Rick's acid words spewed at him. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, shut up you old bastard._

"Do you-do you have any _idea_ how fuck-how god damn annoying it's been to-to hunt you down these last few months, you dumbass-you idiot turd?" Rick spat, his mouth moving without his permission, his words making Morty tense more and more every second.

Rick was practically spitting with anger, and Morty couldn't help his knee-jerk reaction to hunker down and make himself as small as possible in the hopes that his grandpa's rage would pass over him quickly. He'd been under Rick's thumb for years and a few months away, while doing great things to combat the instinctive fear of raised voices, could never be enough to completely erase the conditioning that Morty had gone through with Rick since he was fourteen.

Still, Morty had changed at least a little in the last six months, and he struggled to use some of his newfound courage and confidence to at least try to reply to Rick.

"Why-then w-why did you-why'd you even-why bother looking f-for me?" he murmured, eyes downcast and hating himself for the return of his almost debilitating stutter. Morty was practically quivering in his boots, Rick's harsh words giving him a complex feeling of nostalgia and self-loathing. He'd almost forgotten how cruel Rick could be.

"BecaAUUuse," Rick snarled with a harsh belch in Morty's face, "Y-your idiot family bugged-wouldn't leave me alone about finding you. They-it was pathetic, Morty. Really pathetic."

Morty's heart stuttered a bit at hearing his name come out of Rick's lips, and he could feel tears prickling behind his eyes. Was this all it would take to destroy everything Morty had built, everything he'd become? Just a few harsh words from Rick, and Morty would fall right back into line? He wanted to say no, to say he was stronger than that. But every word that came out of Rick's mouth strengthened the old feelings of inadequacy that Morty had tried so hard to run away from. What was he really doing running away from home? Did he actually think he could become anything more than what he always was?

"Are-are you deaf-mute now, huh Morty?" Rick growled, grabbing Morty's arm and shaking him slightly to get the boy to look at him. His heart almost broke at the tears he could see welling up behind the big, hazel eyes. "Do you-why'd you leave Morty, you little fucker. Why'd you make me-I had to spend all the time trying to find your dumb ass so-so that your family would shut up about it."

"Okay, hold up you old dirtbag, that's fucking enough," came a growled voice behind Morty. Two pairs of human eyes snapped up to stare at the silver alien in bewilderment, having long forgotten he was there. 

Rick let out a low growl in his throat, seething at being insulted by a random fucking alien who had no idea what he was talking about. Rick was about to put the fucker in his place when the silver blob opened his stupid fucking mouth again.

"I don't know who you are, but you have no right to put Morty down like that. This kid is the brightest, kindest person I've ever met and you can just fuck right off if you're gonna treat him like less than the dirt under your feet. He deserves so much more than your ugly old ass insulting him."

"Shut up about things you don't fuck-you don't fucking know about," Rick snarled, instinctively pulling out his gun and pointing it at the alien. Who the fuck did this guy think he was to tell Rick what to do about his Morty?

He was about to pull the trigger and kill the son of a bitch alien when, between one blink and the next, Morty stood right in front of Rick's gun, blocking the silver alien with his body. Rick fumbled briefly with the gun, startled at the kid blocking his target. Before Rick could get his bearings back and try to aim around Morty, the kid roughly grabbed the barrel of the gun and yanked it up to point directly between his own eyes. 

"If you kill my friend, Rick, I swear to god that I'll never-I'll never forgive you. Not in a hundred years. Not-Not in a thousand," Morty murmured, but this time instead of a quivering fear, his low voice was filled with deadly promise; confidence gained from defending a friend. "You'll just-you'll have to kill me first. And wouldn't that be a fucking-wouldn't that be a waste after all the time you spent searching-looking for me?" Morty seethed, his eyes showing a fractured sadness, hating that things between he and Rick had to come to this, but determination won out none the less.

Rick's eyes widened slightly at Morty's clear conviction. The boy was really ready to die instead of letting his friend fall to Rick's hands. And he clearly thought Rick might actually do it.

How could Morty even think that Rick would ever be able to kill him? He'd rather tear his own heart out and eat it.

Slowly, Rick let his hand drop, a deep frown twisting his lips as he glared daggers at the worried, but still smirking alien behind Morty.

"Is this your-your new butt buddy, _M-Morty_ ," Rick jabbed, turning his attention back to the unflinching man in front of him. Where had his little pal gone? His helper who stared at Rick with star-struck wonder and would never dream of doubting or arguing with him. Maybe Rick was even more fucked up than he thought if he was feeling this depressed about the loss of Morty's easy compliance.

"He's my _friend_ , Rick," Morty replied heatedly, crossing his arms over his broadened chest. "Some-Something you wouldn't know about because-because everyone hates you."

Rick's eyebrows shot up into his hairline, baffled that Morty was not only standing up to him, he was insulting Rick too. And okay...that hurt a little bit. The loss of Birdperson, one of his only real friends, was still too fresh in his mind.

"Shut-Fuck you, Morty," Rick spat back, crossing his own arms over his chest in a mocking way. "I don't need-friends are for idiots who don't have the brain cells to think for themselves." Giving Morty a mocking once over, he jauntily continued, "Obviously that's why you were always such a-a clingy bitch. Couldn't-could never think for yourself, could you, Morty?"

Morty rolled his eyes, long hardened towards insults about his intelligence. Sure it still hurt that Rick thought so little of him, but it's not like Morty had never heard it before.

"Just because-just cause you're emotionally dead inside, Rick," Morty replied, shifting away from the man and trying to subtly shoo Flurron back inside, "Doesn't mean having feelings is wrong."

Rick couldn't help the small surge of anger and-maybe privately, and for reasons he didn't even want to try to think about-jealousy as he watched Morty try to subtly keep his stupid friend out of Rick's war path. He was about to say something he most likely would've severely regret later when, out of nowhere, a bullet zinged by Rick's arm, creating a shallow cut that started to bleed sluggishly.

"Son of a bitch," Rick growled, grabbing Morty and dropping to the ground as a second bullet flew through the air where they'd been standing seconds ago. Rick was trying to think of a plan when Morty yanked the older man into the pawn shop with Flurron and slammed the doors shut behind them.

"Fuck," Morty growled as gromflomites seeped out of alleyways and side roads to try to converge on pair of humans as they shoved a shelf in front of the doors. "Flurron, put-put this place on lock down. Start the cleanse."

Eyes wide and customary grin gone from his face, Flurron rushed to comply. "Fuck, kid. It would've been nice to know that the _Galactic Federation_ was on your tail," the alien muttered as he started to frantically enter codes into his computer.

"They're not after me," Morty replied noncommittally, bustling around the store gathering weapons as Rick just watched, dumbfounded about how coolheaded Morty was being in this situation. Usually, as soon as someone pulled out a gun, the kid was a quaking mess of fear. "They're after my grandpa Rick," Morty finished, annoyance coloring his voice.

"Fuck you," Rick shot back, an uncomfortable feeling of guilt taking hold of him as Morty depressingly gathered what looked like pictures and memorabilia. "They-you're on their radar too."

Flurron paused from his typing momentarily, jerking his head up to stare wide-eyed between Rick and Morty. "Wait, wait, wait," the alien jerkily said. "Are you... _the_ Rick and Morty? Like, intergalactic terrorists, destroyers of worlds, general anarchists Rick and Morty?"

Morty flinched minutely at the description, but forced himself to nod. Really, he should've told his friend sooner, but he really didn't want to see the look of fear and loathing that almost always followed people's realization of who he was.

"Well fuck, man," Flurron huffed after a minute of silence, grinning his cheshire grin at the boy before he went back to typing. "If I'd have know that, I would've had you tell me some of your surely highly interesting life stories."

Morty felt himself relax, tension that he hadn't realized he'd had flowing out of his body. 

The sound of gunshots against the shop walls made that tension come right back. The metal walls of the building dented slightly with each round of bullets. They wouldn't hold for much longer, and Morty ran faster around the store, collecting all his valuables.

"What the fuck are we-why are we still here?" Rick suddenly barked, yanking out his portal gun and setting it for home. This was as good a way as any to get Morty back, he supposed.

Morty jerked his head towards Rick, glaring as he replied, "We-I can't leave yet, Rick. There's a bunch of information-there's secrets about dozens of rebellions and uprisings and stuff here. I gotta destroy it before we go. Can't let it-I can't let it fall into the wrong hands."

"Well you better fucking hurry," Rick growled, pulling out his real gun and pointing it towards the wall that was inevitably going to implode very soon. "We don't-there's not much more time before the federation gets in."

"I'm working as fast as I can, R-Rick," Morty muttered bitterly, shoving the last of the valuables into a sac and throwing it over his shoulder. "Ready Flurron?"

The sound of gunshots against metal grew louder, almost drowning out the three people's words.

"We have to take this fuck-this dipshit with us, too?" Rick huffed angrily, sending a glare at the alien who kept getting between him and Morty.

Flurron just grinned saucily at the elderly man as he replied, "Yup, deleting the last of the customer purchase logs now. Should be ready for-"

The alien was interrupted by the implosion of the outer wall. Before anyone realized what was happening, dust and debris filled the shop, clouding everyone's vision. Rick heard a muffled yell of, "Rick, get Flurron," from somewhere on his left as the sounds of dozens of boots storming into the building filled his ears. 

Swinging his portal gun around blindly, Rick crouched low and shuffled towards the voice. Turning back after a momentary consideration of leaving Flurron, Rick shot a portal in the ground roughly where he thought the stupid silver alien had been standing. A surprised cry signified that he'd hit his mark. That dealt with, Rick refocused on the important matters. Finding Morty.

"Morty!" the old man called, not caring that the gromflomites could hear him just as well as his grandson would be able to. 

A muffled shout of his name had Rick scurrying along the floor towards the heavenly sound, his portal gun already ready in his hand. Just as Morty came into blurry focus, Rick noticed a gromflomite taking aim at his Morty, and the kid was so focused on getting to Rick that he didn't even notice.

Obviously he'd gotten soft without Rick there, the elderly man reflected as his body moved without a single thought, shooting a portal and slamming into Morty as a half dozen bullets rained out of the gun. Morty's surprised cry rung out in Rick's ears as he and the man fell through the portal, Rick landing limply on top of Morty.

 _Huh_ , Rick thought offhandedly, his body laying unmoving on top of his grandson in the garage. In their home. _Who would've thought I'd die protecting someone?_

Cold seeped into his old bones as Rick closed his eyes and burrowed his head into the junction between Morty's neck and shoulder. His thoughts were fading in and out, and he'd already lost his ability to understand the words being shouted at him from the young body cradling him.

At least he'd die being held by someone he loved. That was more than he could've ever asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff hanger, but woot woot, at least Rick and Morty are back together! Although they have some major issues to work out before things can go back to anywhere near normal. Thanks for reading, I love all you guys so much and stay tuned to find out what happens!


	9. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick recovers, Morty tries to figure out if he should stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the cliffhanger a few days ago! It was brought to my attention that the way I ended things could have been triggering to some people, and I want to apologize as that was not my intention. I didn't tag major character death because I don't plan on killing off any characters, but next time I will be sure to let people know that there will be major character injury. The reason it seemed like Rick was dying/dead is because the situation was seen from Rick's point of view, and he honestly thought he was going to die. This chapter, we will see things from Morty's point of view, and I assure you that Rick is still kicking and he has plenty of life left in him. Again, my apologies if last chapter was in any way triggering to you! 
> 
> Also, just as a warning, I plan for Rick and Morty to figure things out and stay together in the end, so if that is going to be triggering to you as a potential Stockholm Syndrome situation or staying with past abusers, please be aware that this is the direction my story is heading, so please be careful when reading! 
> 
> Thanks for all the support, I hope you guys like my story!

Morty was officially panicking. Rick was sprawled on top of him, limp and barely breathing on the cold cement floor. What, what, _what_ should he do?

The man was riddled with bullets, and that wasn't something Morty could just stitch up like he did to himself. The amount of blood Rick had lost was already life threatening, and even if Morty somehow got him to a hospital, there was no guarantee the doctors could fix him.

Especially since he had no idea how he'd get the old man to a hospital without his ship or even knowing where the closest hospital was.

"Morty?" a panicked voice whispered to his left, startling the boy out of his daze. Glancing over, Morty blinked blankly at the sight of Flurron huddled in a corner of the garage, a gun held protectively in his hand as he stared suspiciously at his surroundings. "Where are we, kid? Are you okay?"

"I'm...fine," Morty replied slowly, his eyes finally taking in his surroundings. He was...home. In the garage, in Rick's self proclaimed lab. 

Wait. In _Rick's_ lab. Rick, the smartest man in the galaxy who would never let himself die if he wasn't the one with his hand on the trigger.

Groaning slightly at the ache in his body from landing on the cement with another body on top of him, Morty gently moved Rick's limp body off him, placing the man carefully face up on the floor. The boy almost couldn't hold back the bile that threatened to spill at the sight of the ashen, bloodless face of his grandfather. Shaking his head, Morty turned away from Rick, rushing over to the older man's desk and hurriedly yanking open drawer after drawer.

 _No, no, no, that's not what I need_ , he thought frantically as he threw useless junk all over the garage while looking for something very specific. Not bothering to answer Flurron's rapid fire questions, Morty moved on to the last drawer in Rick's desk. _Please, please be in here...Bingo!_

Letting out a cry of happiness, Morty yanked out a syringe filled with viscous purple liquid and threw himself to the ground next to Rick's limp body. The man's breathing had become shallow and difficult in the time Morty had spent searching, and the boy wasted no time jabbing the needle directly into Rick's chest where most of the bullet holes lay. Pushing all the liquid into Rick's body, Morty sat back on his heels and held his breath, waiting to see if it would work like he hoped it would.

Years ago, this same substance had instantly healed both his legs when they'd been shattered by his falling off a cliff. Morty could only pray that it would be able to stitch up a few bullet holes too. 

Several beats of silence, only broken by Rick's pained wheezing, made something in Morty's stomach and chest shrivel up. Would this really be how the great Rick Sanchez died? Shot by some random federation aliens while protecting his hopeless grandson?

Would Morty be the cause of his death? Because even thought the boy had wanted to be rid of Rick, this wasn't what he meant. Not at all. Rick was still his grandpa who had helped Morty survive long years in a household where everyone else ignored his existence. He didn't want the man to _die_. He just wanted to be out from under his thumb. A world without Rick Sanchez was hardly worth anything at all.

Just as Morty was starting to give up hope, starting to feel his mind and heart crumble away to dust, a little cough startled him, his eyes swinging down to stare desperately at Rick. At the heaving of his chest up and down with deep gulps of air, at the frantic flickering of his eyes beneath his lids, at the slowly closing wounds on his chest. 

"Rick?" Morty whispered hesitantly, his heart thumping unevenly as he waited with bated breath for a reply. "Rick, can you hear me?"

A low groan was all that answered him, but Morty took it as a win considering Rick couldn't make any sounds at all before he'd been injected by whatever it was that was healing him. Sighing in relief and relatively certain that Rick wasn't going to die, Morty shuffled back a little until his back was resting against the leg of Rick's work table.

For the first time since landing back home, Morty _really_ looked around. He was stunned by what he saw. 

There were no half finished projects laying around, no blueprints or random bits of machinery that before littered every available surface. No, now there were only empty bottles and cold, empty surfaces. The worst part was the deep rouge stain that still lay conspicuously on the garage floor. The stain of Morty's blood that six months ago had dripped onto the ground along with his tracker as he cut out every part of Rick from his life and flew away.

It would've been the work of seconds for Rick to make the stain disappear, but for some reason the elderly man had left it on the floor. To remind him of Morty? To taunt him about what he'd lost? Or simply because he hadn't cared enough to get rid of it?

Morty had no idea, and he didn't figure he'd ever know since he knew he couldn't get a straight answer out of Rick if his life depended on it.

But maybe, just maybe, the lack of new machines and the presence of Morty still in the garage meant something. Maybe Morty wasn't as worthless to his family as he'd thought. Or well, maybe not to Rick anyway.

 _No!_ Morty suddenly raged at himself, hurriedly standing up and starting to pace. _I can't let myself fall back into the servile, self-doubting creature I was before_. _I can't just forget about all the things I've done and all the ways I've grown in the last six months. I won't let myself._

"Morty?" Flurron hesitantly murmured, wary of the wild look in the boy's eyes. "What should we do now?"

Morty had no idea. They could always just leave now. Rick was unconscious, but healing. They could take the portal gun and teleport back to the ship. Disappear into the figurative sunset.

Or they could stay here. See why Rick went through all the trouble of searching for Morty for six whole months, showing more dedication to a goal than Morty had ever thought possible.

But where would that leave Morty mentally? He knew that home was a toxic environment for him, but over the last six months he'd worked hard to rid himself of the feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing that had been bred here. Not to mention Morty could still feel the threads of hate winding in his chest at the thought of the indifference of his family. Would the newfound inner-strenght be enough? Or would being back here make Morty fall back into his role of depressed, neglected child that held so much hate and self-doubt that he could barely function.

Because that was the last thing he wanted. Morty was... _happy_ with who he'd become. And he wouldn't let himself lose that just because he was feeling nostalgic about the few good times he'd had with his family. Or because he had a surely misplaced sense of hope that things could maybe be different now that his family understood just how much they'd hurt and tortured him, even without intending to.

Staring longingly at Rick and the room around him, Morty wondered if he was being stupid for wanting his family back, even after what they'd put him through. 

"Whatever you decide," Flurron continued after Morty didn't answer his question. "I'm with you all the way."

And that showed Morty more than anything else just how far he'd come. To have a friend that was willing to stick by him no matter what, even if it meant going against Rick Sanchez, _that_ showed Morty that he was a different man than the empty boy who'd run all those months ago. He was stronger, happier, and he had other people who would fight for him. Who would care if he was gone.

So maybe it was time to move past the anger he still felt burning in his chest at the thought of his family. Maybe he could try to stay and reconcile with them, hear them out. And if it seemed like things were going to fall back into the old routine of neglect and berating, then Morty would just leave again. And this time he wouldn't ever come back, no matter how often Rick sacrificed himself for Morty. 

His decision to stay solidified when the garage door swung open to reveal the tear stained face of his sister. The girl ran towards Morty, throwing her arms around him and crushing him into a rough hug. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry _Morty_ ," Summer murmured into Morty's hair as he struggled to keep down his flinch at the sudden show of love from a sister who'd barely ever touched him in the past.

Rubbing her back hesitantly, Morty stayed silent, not quite able to tell her it was okay. Because it was far from okay, and he swore that he'd make sure they understood just how much they'd damaged him before he even considered forgiving them.

But...Morty thought it was possible. To one day forgive his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but I just wanted to get this out to bring a little resolution to the cliff hanger. Thanks for the support!


	10. Family Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Smith and Sanchez family get together and talk. Some feelings come to light.

Morty sat uncomfortably at the kitchen table, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared blankly at his mother and Summer sitting across from him. Rick, having woken up just after Summer burst into the garage, was slightly distanced from all the... _emotion_ , leaning faux casually against the kitchen counter with his flask dangling forgotten in one hand. Flurron, bless his poor heart, was standing supportively behind Morty's chair, his silver arms crossed and eyes narrowed at the humans who'd hurt his friend so terribly in the past.

Silence reigned in the dimly lit kitchen as Summer and Beth stared teary-eyed at their returned family member, neither being able to force words from their lips just yet. Morty shifted uncomfortably under their unrelenting gazes, unused to such attention from his family. Finally, Beth took in a shaky gasp of air and smiled weakly at her son.

"Hey, Morty."

Blinking blankly at the hesitantly murmured words, Morty replied the only way he could.

"Uh, h-hey...mom," the boy muttered, silently cursing his stutter that showed up at the worst times.

Beth's eyes filled even more with tears as she reached slowly across the table, palm up. "It's good to hear your voice again, Morty," she whispered, blinking rapidly to try to disperse some of the wetness in her eyes. "It's good to see you again, we...we missed you so much."

Morty doubted that, but gave a small smile anyway. Turning questioning eyes to his mother's hand, still reaching face up towards him on the table, Morty wondered if she wanted him to react to it somehow. The most obvious thing to do would be to grip her hand in his, but Morty's mother had never been one to physically comfort her children when they were upset, choosing instead to let them figure their problems out alone to teach them to be independent. 

Morty decided just to ignore the hand, figuring that it was best that he didn't accidentally make a fool of himself by reaching for her when she most likely wasn't reaching for him. The broken look on Beth's face after a minute of sitting still almost made Morty doubt his decision as she roughly yanked her hand off the table and clutched it to her chest as if burned.

Morty frowned as he heard Rick take a long pull from his flask.

This was going nowhere, and Morty almost wished he'd just left while Rick was unconscious. It'd have been easier than having the eyes of his estranged family boring holes into him as if he were...important to them. As if he'd disappear if they blinked or looked away for even a moment. 

"Morty, I think we need to talk about some things," Summer finally murmured, breaking the silence with a voice as hesitant and uncertain as Morty had ever heard it.

Snorting a little at the understatement, Morty shifted uncomfortably on his seat and clasped his hands together on top of the table as he tiredly replied, "Y-Yeah probably."

He waited in silence for someone else to speak first. He sure as hell wasn't going to be the first one to speak up. He was tired of always feeling like the neediest, most attention seeking creature in the house for wanting to talk about his feelings to someone. For once, someone else could spill their guts. It wouldn't be him this time.

Taking the hint, Beth spoke up first, her eyes full of sorrow and regret as she whispered, "Morty, why did you leave?"

"Because I did-didn't want to be here."

Summer and Beth averted their eyes quickly at the unhesitating words, but Rick continued to bore holes into Morty with his eyes. Turning slightly, Morty made eye contact with his grandpa, curious as to what the old man was thinking being forced to be present for the family's oncoming emotional blowout. 

The man's face was a brick wall, closed off and emotionless as far as Morty could tell. The only give-away that he was at all uncomfortable was the slight shake to his hand as he raised the flask to his lips, making eye contact with Morty the whole time. 

Huffing out a breath and rolling his eyes, Morty focused back on his mother and sister, noticing that they'd both pulled themselves back together enough to talk without crying again.

"Was it...because of us that you didn't want to be here, Morty?" Summer asked quietly, unflinching in the delivery but obviously terrified of the answer. It was one thing to say she knew she was part of the reason her brother had run away, but it was another to hear him say it himself. 

"Yes," came the immediate, almost cold reply. Morty was relieved that now that the time finally came for a confrontation between him and his family, he was able to keep calm and collected, not bursting with emotion like he would've been six months ago. Now, he almost felt detached from the whole matter, as if this was about someone else's life instead of his. 

"You-all of you guys drove-pushed me to run," he finished quietly, a bit sad at the look those words put on his family's face, but not sad enough to take it back or pretend like things were okay. It was the truth after all.

"Okay," Beth whispered, taking a steadying breath and almost unconsciously reaching for a glass of wine that wasn't there. She'd purposely not poured herself one for this conversation, knowing she'd need to be all the way there mentally to get through to Morty. "I know...I know we haven't been the best family to you, Morty. But, but why didn't you just talk to us about it instead of running away?"

There was the anger whose absence in himself Morty had question earlier. Before Summer could jump in to side with his mother, Morty sharply cut them down, his unflinching outrage spilling through into his words a bit.

"Are you-are you _kidding me_? You think I-that I could've _talked_ to any of you?" Turning to face Beth, Morty's eyes narrowed disgustedly. "You, mom, who was always-always so busy drowning her sorrows-her feelings about dad in the bottle that she couldn't be-couldn't be bothered to take care of her kids at all. The one who _quite obviously_ cared not a bit about her son that she-that she _would've unflinchingly let die instead of her daughter_. Mom, you didn't-you didn't even hesitate to pick Summer over me to die. Didn't-didn't even try to stall or wait for help. You just....didn't care," Morty finished lamely, his anger quickly burning away as tears spilled freely from his mother's eyes.

Even after everything, he didn't want to hurt her. 

But it was long time for these things to be said.

"Or-or should I have talked to you, Summer?" Morty sadly went on, turning to his sister who stared back at him resolutely, tears in her eyes as she waited to take anything he had to say about her. "My sister, who-who barely even acknowledged my existence. Who was so-so _self-absorbed_ that she didn't notice her brother-her _baby brother_ whither away day by day. Who couldn't bother to let him know-to stand up for him like siblings should do."

By now, Summer and Beth had been reduced to heaving sobs, trying to stay as quiet as they could to hear all the grievances Morty had about them that had driven the boy away. Flurron gripped Morty's shoulders tightly as he glared daggers at the kid's family, almost wanting to rip them a new one himself.

Turning to Rick, Morty almost couldn't bring himself to say the things that had been building up in him for years. Rick looked as blank and cold as always, but stared unflinchingly at the boy in front of him.

"Or Rick..." Morty began slowly, hazel eyes staring sadly into blue. Before he could get any further, Rick pushed himself off the counter, swaying slightly on his feet as he stood towering over the boy for a moment.

"C-Can it, Morty," the elderly man finally rasped, his gaze going far away as he turned his back to the table and shuffled towards the garage. "I-I don't need you-you don't need to tell me about-about all my failings, you little...you little shit," Rick finished lamely, no heat behind his words, almost said more out of habit than any actual emotion.

Before anyone else could get in a word edgewise, Rick had fled into the garage and slammed the door behind him, the sound of the lock clearly echoing in the kitchen.

Morty, Beth, Summer, and Flurron all stared at the closed door for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Morty was unsurprised that Rick had run away from the emotional conversation; the man couldn't deal with feelings, whether his own or someone else's. Running and drinking was how he dealt with all his problems and Morty didn't know why he thought this would be any different. Why he would be important enough to warrant a real conversation. It was just a childish (foolish) hope that Morty was almost embarrassed to admit he'd let grow in himself.

It was hardly a surprise, but it still hurt Morty to watch his grandpa turn his back on him once more. 

But, there was little he could do to fix that right now-or maybe ever-so Morty brought his focus back onto something he still had some hope of fixing. 

(And wasn't that foolish, to still have any hope at all?)

Turning back to his mother and sister, Morty settled back in the chair and took a deep breath.

"So..do you see why-just why I didn't talk to anyone-any of you?" Morty murmured, bringing the attention back to himself.

Beth and Summer's eyes snapped back to Morty, almost dry now. They nodded in unison, neither able to speak just yet with the emotion clogging their throats. Morty himself didn't have much else to say at this point either. Sure, he could scream and yell about all the tiny things that had built up in him over the years, but at this point, each tiny slight didn't need to be brought to light. It was enough to let his family know just the overall reasons he'd left. Nothing more, and nothing less. It would only serve to break things further if Morty told them each and every time they'd chipped away at his soul. It'd hurt him to remember and it'd hurt them to understand. 

"Morty, honey," Beth murmured brokenly, her eyes shining with regret and self-hatred as she again held out a hand towards her son. This time, Morty hesitantly reached out and laid his palm in hers. "Morty, I am so, _so_ sorry we made you feel so alone and miserable that you felt like you couldn't talk to us and that you had to leave. I was...I've been stupid and oblivious to you kids for a long time now, as absorbed as I was in my own misery. And that's not what a mother should be."

The words sunk into Morty's bones, and although they didn't really do much to make him feel less worthless to his mother, they did give him some hope that things could change if she was willing to admit that she'd been wrong in her treatment of him. Before he could reply, Beth squeezed his hand painfully tight in her own, her voice breaking slightly as she continued.

"I promise you, Morty, that I won't ever let you feel so alone and helpless again. I _love_ _you_ so much, and I could never ask for a better son. I'm sorry that I haven't been a better mother."

Morty nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. He wasn't sure how to feel about all that. Yes, that was all he'd wanted to hear from is mom his whole life, but now he just didn't know what to do with the words. It almost felt like too little too late, but, looking into his mother's eyes, he thought that she genuinely meant the things she'd said. 

It was completely bewildering to Morty.

Before he could even process what Beth had said, Summer spoke up and drew the room's attention to her.

"You're my kid brother, Morty," Summer murmured sadly, her eyes pleading with him to listen. "And I know I've treated you like trash. I just...didn't realize how much it hurt you. I know it's not an excuse, but I just treated you how I thought all older siblings treated their younger ones-like a nuisance. I didn't...I should've realized that with everything else going on in your life, you needed me to act like the kind of older sister who protected her younger sibling, not one who ignored them. And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

Again, Morty had no idea what to do with that. It felt nice, of course, to have his family apologize to him, to tell him his feelings were valid and he was right to be hurt by their actions. (He'd almost thought his family would just tell him he was being a baby and to man up, and he was certain that would've broken him just a bit more). But really, were apologies enough to make up for the _y_ ears he'd been hurt and hurt and _hurt_ by them? Were words ever going to be enough?

"Morty, we...understand if you can't forgive us," Beth whispered after a while of silence, swiping a hand roughly through her hair to pull it out of her eyes. "And Summer and I have talked about it. We just...we hope you can give us another chance to show you how much you mean to us. Because you mean so much, and we can't stand the thought of losing you again."

Summer nodded her assent, pleading eyes once more turned to Morty. They weren't going to give any more excuses for their actions. They just wanted the chance to prove to the youngest member of their family that things could change. 

Morty contemplated their words. Did it make him a fool to even consider their offer? They caused him so much damage, surely if he let them anywhere near him it would be too close and too soon. On the other hand, they were his family, and no matter how they'd hurt him, he still loved them dearly. He still treasured the good memories he had with his family, and maybe, if he let them close again, he would be able to make more good memories to cherish. Maybe enough to drown out the bad ones. 

Gentle hands squeezed his shoulders, and Morty glanced up at Flurron. A less prominent version of his usual cheshire smile twisted the nebulonian's lips, and Morty was comforted by the familiar sight. The warmth from the smooth silver hands reassured Morty that he had a place and friends in this universe, no matter what happened here. He would never be alone again, so really, was there anything to lose by trying to reconcile with his family?

The worst thing that could happen is that things fall back into the same toxic neglect-filled atmosphere that he'd run away from, but then what? He'd just leave again and he'd still have Flurron and all the friends he'd made while adventuring by himself. Really, things could only go uphill if he allowed his family another chance.

Mind made up, Morty let a small, genuine smile twist his lips.

"Okay," he replied slowly, secretly proud of the way his family's eyes lit up at his response. "I'll stay and see what happens." Before his mom and sister could get too excited though, Morty sharply cut in. "But I'm not afraid to leave again if things get bad."

"Of course," Beth rushed to say, worry in her eyes that she tried to shove down. Standing up, she swept over to Morty's side and crushed the boy into a hug. Summer quickly joined in, and Morty sat stiffly in his chair, unsure of what to do. All this hugging was going to take some getting used to.

Tears prickled in his eyes, but he fought to shove them away. Morty was _trying_ to stay distanced from this so he didn't get hurt again, but it was hard to do when he had his mom and sister blubbering in his ears and holding onto him harder than he'd ever been held in his life. It felt...nice, to be wanted, to be loved.

Morty reluctantly hoped it was something he could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are settled with Morty, Beth, and Summer. Now all that's left is for Rick and Morty to have a heart to heart and figure out what they mean to each other! I'm planning maybe two more chapters, so I hope all of you stick with me until the end, thanks for all the support! I love all you guys so much for all your kudos and wonderful comments!


	11. Drunken Blowout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Morty finally have a confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update! Winter break just ended and it took me a minute to get my bearings once school started back up. Anyway, I plan for just one more chapter after this, so enjoy!

Morty was dead asleep in his room, Flurron laying soundly on a blow up mattress on his floor. It'd been so long since Morty had been in his own room, in his own house, and he'd felt an unexpected rush of relief and comfort when he'd first opened the door to see his bedroom exactly as he'd left it. Honestly, he'd half expected it to have been emptied of his stuff and turned into a guest room by now. 

It had taken Morty only a few minutes to drop into a dreamless sleep once he'd set up Flurron's sleeping arrangements and laid down in his own bed. 

It had taken only two hours after that for Rick to slam open Morty's door and stumble in crying the boy's name.

Morty jolted awake as Rick's lanky body flopped limply on the end of his bed, the man still sadly moaning his name. Shuffling his legs out from under Rick's chest, Morty curled up slightly against his headboard and let out an exhausted sigh. He'd almost forgotten that Rick periodically ended up passed out drunk in his room after long crying sessions. Or after threatening Morty with a knife to his throat. It was a fifty-fifty chance either way.

"Um..." came Flurron's hesitant voice from the floor as he stared questioningly at the old man who'd barged into the room. "Should we...do something about that?"

Rick's head slowly turned to face the noise, and his sniffling got louder as he saw who'd spoken.

"Mor-Morty, how-how could you just-how could y-you replace me with some-with a random alien, Morty?" Rick murmured in despair, his eyes unfocused but staring in Flurron's general vicinity. "You-you even let him sleep with-sleep in your room. You always-you get mad at me when I-when I try to stay in here."

Staring blankly at Rick, he couldn't help the deadpan reply of, "That-That's because Flurron doesn't vomit on me in his sleep."

A deep frown twisted Rick's features as Morty sighed and dragged a hand through his sleep mussed hair. Turning to the confused alien on his floor, Morty muttered, "Hey-Hey Flurron, could you give Rick and I-can you give us a minute?"

Glancing back and forth between the two, the nebulonian finally nodded slightly and shuffled off of the air mattress, glaring at Rick once before he headed out the door, closing it behind him.

"O-Okay Rick, why are you here?" Morty deadpanned as soon as the door clicked shut. "I thought you didn't want-didn't want to hear my complaints about you."

Rick groaned slightly as he shifted his body up into a kneeling position on the end of Morty's bed, his eyes boring into the boy's. Shuffling forward to crowd Morty against the headboard (which was harder than it used to be thanks to Morty's growth spurt), Rick let out a little sob and dropped his head on Morty's shoulder.

"Mor-Morty, you left-you abandoned me."

"Rick, you abused me."

Rick's eyes shot up to stare at Morty, the cold way the words were said making shivers run down Rick's spine. He couldn't help the small whimper that slipped through his drunken lips at the images the word 'abuse' conjured in Rick's mind, long repressed memories of his own father's relentless fists surfacing in his memory.

"I-I didn't...I _never_ laid a hand on you Mort-Morty!"

Rolling his eyes, Morty shoved Rick away from him, the old man sprawling back on the bed as Morty glared and crossed his arms protectively across his chest. "You didn't have to...abuse doesn't have to be physical, Rick," Morty grit out, hardening his heart against Rick's teary eyes. "Not that you ever stopped-not that you helped me when I _was_ being physically hurt either."

Rick let out a sound of protest, but Morty quickly shut him down with a fierce look as he continued, "Just because-even though you never hit me doesn't-it doesn't mean you didn't abuse me. And even though you didn't hit me...Rick, you still performed-you did experiments on me, and-and gambled with my-my _life_ , and you let me, you let me get hurt _so much_ , Rick. That's not-that's not what family should be like."

Finally, it looked like Rick's tears were pushed back in favor of drunken anger. Anger at Morty, which honestly baffled the boy. How could Rick justify being angry at him, when the elderly man was so clearly the one in the wrong?

"Y-Yeah? Well fuck you, Morty," Rick spat, again crawling closer to Morty, but this time in a threatening manner instead of for comfort. Jabbing a finger into the boy's chest, Rick seethed, "You-you don't know the first thing about-about _abuse_. I saved your pathetic ass so many times, how-how caAAan you even think-how can you think that I _abused_ you?"

"You wouldn't have had to-had to 'save my ass' if you hadn't put me in danger in-in the first place, Rick!" Morty yelled back, his own anger rising up in the face of Rick's. "Just-Just admit that you were- _are_ an asshole to me, Rick. I don't know how you-you're so thoroughly in denial!"

"Seriosuly, fuck off about-about things you don't understand, Morty," Rick hissed out, spittle flying out of his lips as he seethed at the fact that Morty didn't see how much the man had done for him. For fuck's sake, Rick never let the boy die, no matter how much he fucked up on their adventures. What better way to show he cared than saving his life? That's more concern than his parents or sister ever showed for Morty, and yet the boy had forgiven _them_ in the blink of an eye and here Rick was with the boy nitpicking everything he'd ever done wrong. What else did the boy want from him? Rick told Morty straight up his thoughts about forgiving everyone, but that only seemed to make the boy even more angry.

"Are you-are you fucking kidding me, Rick? You think-you think I should forgive you? _You haven't even apologized for anything yet!_ " Morty yelled, jerking closer to Rick, now nose to nose with the glaring man. "Why the hell would I-how could I forgive someone who doesn't even know-doesn't acknowledge what they did wrong? Just because you didn't slap-didn't hit me around like _your father_ did to you-"

But Morty couldn't finish that sentence as Rick's fist slammed into his jaw, making the boy harshly bite his tongue. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth and Morty angrily spat the thick red saliva-blood combination at Rick.

"What, can't-can't handle a taste of your own medicine, Rick?" Morty taunted, his eyes gone dark and stormy as his gaze bore holes into Rick's terrified face. "How-How's it feel to have someone important to you destroy-hit you in all your insecurities? How's it feel to have your family tell you, Rick, that you-you're the most toxic part of their life, that all you do is slowly-you poison them just by your presence. That they'd be better-be better off without you? That you're _worthless_. How's that feel, Rick?"

Rick's anger had slowly melted away during Morty's rant, leaving behind a desolate emptiness as he stared at the blossoming bruise on the boy's cheek. So much for never hitting him, turns out that Rick was just as much of a worthless piece of abusive trash as his own father. Tears slipped silently out of Rick's eyes, and he was too drunk to realize that he'd unconsciously grabbed for Morty's hand, needing to feel the boy's solid presence, even if he was the one hurting Rick right now. It wasn't like Rick didn't deserve it.

Morty's eyes and anger softened slightly as Rick fumbled for his hand, tears falling freely from the elderly man's eyes as his lip trembled. 

"Don't-Don't you see, Rick?" Morty whispered, flipping his hand around so his palm could grasp tightly at Rick's. "It-It _hurts_ when someone you care about-someone you love acts like you're a waste of space. It hurt me when you always said I was expendable, that I was replaceable, that I was worthless. It hurt, Rick, and I-I couldn't stand to be around people who so obviously didn't care about me. Was I-was I wrong to leave, Rick? Would you have-would you have stayed if you were being treated like that constantly?"

A gasping shudder wracked the man's body, and he gently brought up a hand to caress Morty's cheek where a dark purple stained his otherwise flawless skin. Closing his eyes, Rick bent down to rest his forehead against Morty's, a small sob shaking his lanky frame.

"I-I understand."

Morty felt relief flood his tense body as he wrapped his arms around Rick's fragile shoulders. He hadn't wanted to lose Rick, no matter what his broken self-esteem and any child protection services agent would've suggested. And maybe Morty was stupid to think that maybe this would get through to Rick, that the man would finally see the error in his ways. But that's just who Morty was. He clung to his optimism with a deathgrip, unwilling to lose that part of himself no matter what horrors he lived through. 

And if that meant there was a chance he'd get hurt again in the future because he'd let someone toxic back into his life on they off chance that things could be different? Well he'd prefer that to becoming someone like Rick who pushed people away before they could get close enough to hurt him. 

"I'm sorry," Rick whispered into Morty's hair a few minutes later. The man's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his arms were locked tightly around Morty's waist as they lay next to each other in the narrow bed, legs entwined. 

Morty hummed thoughtfully back, his own eyes growing heavy with exhaustion as he shifted to face Rick's scrunched up face that had just dried of tears. Bringing up a hand calloused by guns and terror and war, Morty gently pulled his fingers through Rick's electric locks and murmured, "Then-Then make it up to me by being different from now on. No more cold hearted-no more cruel Rick that hurts his family so they can't hurt him."

After a moment, the man nodded slightly, relaxing into Morty's gently grip as the boy continued to run his hand through Rick's hair.

"I promise."

Shortly after, both fell into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some things that needed to be said are out in the open. Now Rick and Morty can finally start healing and figuring out how to be together again. I plan for just one more chapter as a sort of epilogue, hopefully to be released over the weekend! As always, thanks for your support and I love all the comments and kudos, you guys are amazing!


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look at Rick and Morty's new life now that Morty won't settle for being treated with less respect and love than he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read my end notes for info about a potential sequel!

Things were tense for awhile. It seemed to Morty that everyone except Rick was treating him like he was made of glass; too fragile to handle the slightest attack to his person. Once, when Morty tried to get Summer to scoot over so he could sit on the couch, she instinctively called him an annoying dweeb. The look of fear that crossed her face after she realized what she'd said to her flight-risk of a brother was almost funny to Morty.

Almost funny, but not quite. Instead, Morty just felt sad that he and his sister were so out of touch that she was afraid he'd run away because of simple sibling banter. 

Morty just called her a lazy bitch in response and changed the channel on the television. He waited patiently until he felt her body relax slightly next to him, assured that Morty wasn't offended by her words. She'd eventually replied with a snarky comment about his shitty taste in tv shows, and Morty had shoved her off the couch instead of deigning her with a verbal response. 

After that, things eased slightly between the siblings. Their usual banter came easier, but Morty could still tell when she bit her tongue and held back from saying things that she deemed too far. It was a relief, honestly. He didn't realize how much he'd missed the easy way he and Summer used to just playfully argue for the sake of arguing. No real anger or conflict behind the words. Morty wondered if maybe this is what their past had always been like to Summer, if she always just thought her insults would be brushed off moments after they were said. 

To Morty, they'd been so much more than playful banter.

But now, now Morty knew just how much he meant to Summer, and no matter what petty arguments they got into and what stupid insults they threw, Summer would always love him. Summer had been a mess when Morty returned, and he'd heard from Rick how the girl wouldn't leave their grandpa alone about hunting down her brother the entire six months he was gone. Summer was far from indifferent about him, and though that was a new revelation to Morty, he was glad he'd finally figured it out. Better late than never, he supposed.

So things with Summer eased, and after a few months they were closer than they'd been in years.

And Morty was happy.

As for his mother, that was slightly more of an uncomfortable transition. He wasn't used to his mother being a loving, touchy-feely person, so when the woman tried to give him hugs before he went to bed and kiss his forehead every time he left the house, well he was baffled to say the least. It took weeks of flinching and confused looks before Morty started to relax into the hugs his mother would give; before he started to smile when she kissed his forehead like he was a child and told him she loved him.

It was a rocky start, with his mother acting more clingy than he'd ever seen her. Yes, Morty knew his mother had deep-seated abandonment issues, but he really hadn't thought _his_ abandonment of her would break her so much.

It was baffling, and Morty was both relieved and upset to realize that his mother must value him for her to be so hurt about his unexpected leave. If she'd always valued him enough to be sad that he'd left, why had she never showed it until now? Morty really didn't understand how his family could act so indifferent.

Wouldn't it have been easier if they'd all just showed their love for each other in the first place instead of pretending that the others didn't matter?

But, either way, his mother was showing her love now, eighteen years later than she should've. That was enough for him. 

And Morty was happy.

And Flurron? The snarky nebulonian had stayed with Morty at his house for two weeks to make sure the boy wasn't being treated badly by his family. He eventually started to warm up to the other members of the house, after the initial few cold shoulder, hissing, and pranking incidents. Rick didn't take to the pranks very well, threatening to kill the alien no less than ten times. However, the other members of the house took all the petty tricks with grace and good humor, until Flurron had no choice but to give them credit for their patience and willingness to deal with him because he was important to Morty.

After that, Morty helped Flurron set up a new shop back on his home planet, this one bigger and nicer than his last one. The nebulonian shed a few tears as Morty got into his ship with a promise to visit as often as possible (which happened to be several times a week once Morty pestered Rick into making him his own portal gun).

Morty still ran his business from Flurron's shop, helping as many people as he could with his inventions. That way, Morty could still atone for some of his crimes and see Flurron whenever he wanted.

And Morty was happy.

And then there was Rick. Unsurprisingly, Morty had the most problems with him after his return. Even after the late night, tear-filled conversation they'd had in his room the day he'd returned, things didn't immediately heal between them. Rick was still an asshole, and no amount of liquor or runaway grandchildren could change that about him.

And Morty was okay with that. He loved Rick as he was; snarky comments, asshole behavior, lack of manners, alcoholism and all.

The only thing that was different was now, Morty didn't take his insults and rudeness sitting down. For every instinctive abuse Rick threw at him, Morty replied in turn, whether with an answering insult or a reproach for his childish behavior.

Rick's surprised face every time Morty stood up to him was priceless, and Morty reveled in the fact that the less he was cowed by Rick, the less the man seemed inclined to insult him in the first place.

So the insults slowly died down, replaced instead by light but constructive criticism or angry mumbling under his breath anytime Morty messed up.

It probably helped that Morty continued to invent things after his return. Rick's impressed and proud face the first time Morty showed him one of his inventions will forever stay in Morty's memory as one of his happiest moments. After that, Rick insisted on setting up a desk next to his in the garage for Morty, and they worked together in comfortable silence or with playful bantering with Rick giving Morty pointers about how to improve his work. Sometimes, Morty was even able to throw in some critiques for Rick's work.

The way Rick's face glowed with pride and love in those moments reminded Morty more than anything else that he was more than just a waste of space to his family.

Adventures took a slight turn after that, with Morty refusing to pull any more destructive stunts that harmed millions of aliens just for their own benefit. Boy did Rick throw a fit after Morty told him that one. He argued, insulted, cajoled, and begged Morty to just go on a few more of those adventures. _I just-I need one more thing-just one more for this invention, Morty_ , he'd say innocently as if the one thing he needed wouldn't destroy an entire civilization if they took it. _Come on, Mor-Morty, they could all be-they could be asshole rapist aliens for all you know. Who cares-who even cares about them, anyway?_ he'd argue, a frown tugging his thin lips down as Morty shook his head. _Morty, I swear to-to some nonexistent God that if you don't get through that portal right now I will-then I'll shoot you in the leg and drag you with me anyway,_ he'd threaten, to which Morty would just silently raise his eyebrow.

Eventually, Rick conceded that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to change Morty's mind about his new morals. So the majority of their adventures, while no less dangerous, turned into more humanitarian missions, (which Rick fucking hated, but went along with anyway because he refused to let Morty fight in wars, topple governments, and free imprisoned refugees alone), stealing from the people who wouldn't miss it or deserved to lose everything they owned, or just plain trips for the hell of going on trips. There was a lot more bartering and trading for things they needed than there used to be, but Morty was fine with that, even though Rick complained every time.

Every once in a while, Rick would go out alone late in the night and return shifty eyed and nervous, afraid of Morty's judgment. But Morty just rolled his eyes and asked Rick what he'd gotten, never asking the story of how he'd obtained it.

So they worked together, Rick learning how to become someone Morty could be proud of.

And Morty was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks, its been a fun ride and I'm so thankful for all the support you guys have given me in my first story, it really helped get rid of some of my anxiety about sharing my writing!! You lovelies have been the absolute best readers with your excited and helpful comments, so I again thank you for everything!! 
> 
> I'm going take a little break from writing, but in a month or two I plan to write a short First Time Rick/Morty sequel for this if any of you are interested in seeing them actually get together with some real smut. For those of you who would rather not imagine them together romantically, this will be the end of the road for you guys in this story. 
> 
> Thanks again, hope you guys stick around for the short sequel in a month or two!!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first ever fic, I hope everyone likes it! I'd love to hear some feedback and if anyone has comments or suggestions, feel free to let me know. I know I'm a far from perfect writer, so I'm open to any critiques people want to give me! Thanks so much for reading, and hopefully you'll stay tuned to see what happens next!


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